A winter-evening conference. ... 1694

| CONFE ENCE.

i

BETWEEN ,

| Neighbours.

Jn Thiee Parts,

1 | The Sixth Edition, Corrected.

_—_—

| By F. GOODMAN, D.D.

|————

Prov. xXv1j, 17.
As Iron ſbarpeneth Iron, ſo doth the Coun-

tenance of a Man his Friend,

——_.

——__—

- g

LONDON,

Printed by F. L. for Luke Meredith,
at the Star 1n St. Paul's Church- -Jard,
M DC XCI ve

OT

© JUN 2 1917 ©
_—_

THE

PUBLISHER

TO THE

READER.

Conrteous Reader,

I Muſt, on the Behalf of the Perſons

concerned in theſe Papers now in
thy Hands, beſpeak thy Candor in

two or three Particulars following.
Firſt, That thou wilt not ſuffer thy
Curioſity to carry thee ſo far as to be we-
ry inquiſitive who they were, or where
they dwelt, who beld theſe Conferences;
for beſides that the Knowledge thereof
would be of no Uſe, there are ſeveral
other Reaſons why I cannot gratifie thee
therein, farther than by giving their
true CharaGers, which thou wilt find

ſubjoined.

Secondly, That whereas at the En-
trance of theſe Conferences, and perhaps
A 2 alſo,

\

Thereftws thou art of fired to remember,

The Publiſher

alſo here and there in other Parts of
them, thou may ſt obſerve ſome ſhort
Touches of Mirth, thou wilt not be of-

fended at them, as ill comporting either

with the Gravity of the Speakers, or the
Seriouſneſs of the Deſign. For if thou
conſider the Humour of the Age, thou
wilt not find thy ſelf obliged to impute

it to the Lewvity of Sebaſtian's Temper,

but to his Diſcretion and Wiſdom, that
he doth accommodate himſelf to thoſe he
would gain upon; as he that would
catch Fiſh, muſt juit bis Baits to their
Guft and Fancy.

Thirdly, Becauſe it is not unlikely
but thou wilt take notice, that the Tn-
terlocutors do now and then, upon Oc-
cafion.uſe Complemental Attributions to-
wards each other, and applaud one ano-
thers Wit or Eloquence'; ; which being
. now put in Print ,o1ay,to a ſevere Cenſor,

ſeem to ſawour of Oftentation, and look

like clawing and flattering one another.

that

to the Reader.

that this was done only amongſt them-
ſelves, and in private Converſation;
where ſuch kinds of Civility are uſual-
ly pradiiſed, without O fence or Impu-
tation.

As for the general Deſign of theſe
Conferences, I make bold to tell thee,
that it is apparently noble and generous ;
namely, to lead the Way to more Man-
ly Converſation, eſpecially amongſt the
"Hg Ranks of Men; to demonſtrate,
that the ſtricteſt Vertue 1s conſiſtent with
the greateſt Prudence and Civility ; and
in ſbort, to raiſe the dejected and de-

preſſed Spirit of Pity in the World. The
Conſideration hereof encouraged thePub-
lication, and I hope wall ſufficiently re-

commend it to thy Acceptance.

Farewel.

The

The CharaGiers of the Perſons in the
Two following Conferences.

Ebaflian, a Learned and Pious Gentle-

man, who takes all Advantages of
engaging thoſe he converſes with, in So-
briety, and a Senle of Religion.

Phitender, a Genteel and Ingenuous Per-
fon, but too much addicted to the Light-
nefles of the Age, till reclaimed by the
Converſation of Sebaſtian.

Biophilzs, a Sceptical Perfon, who had
no: ſetled Belief of any Thing ; but eſpe-
cally, was averſe to the great DoQtrines
of Chriſtianity, concerning the Immorta-
lity of the Soul, and the Life to come ; and
therefore conſequently, was much concer-
ned for the preſent Life : Till at length,
awakened by the diſcreet Reaſonings of
Sebaſtian, and the atteQionate Diſcourſes
of Philander, he begins to deliberate of
what before he deſpiſed.

Eaxlabes, a truly Prudent and Holy Man,
who made his Life a Study of, and Prepa-
ration for, Death ; propounded as an Ex-
ample for Imitation, in the Second Con-
ference.

ky 1 The

The Argument of the Ficlt
Conference.

Sebaſtian vifeing his Neighbour Philander,
after a little Time ſpent in civil Salut «-
tions, ts quickly preſſed by hims to the tos
uſual Entertainment of liberal Drinking >
which Sebaſtian at firſ# modeſtly and face-

. Fionfly declines ; but afterwards more di
reitly ſhews the Folly and Unmanlineſs of
it. He « then invited toGaeming ; which
he alſo excuſing bimſelf from, and giving
his Reaſons againſt, Philander complains
of the Difficulty of ſpending Time without
ſuch Diverſions. Whereupon Sebaſtian
repreſents to him ſundry Entertainments
of Time, both more delightful, and more
profitable, than the fore-mentioned ; #-
mongft which, that of Friendly and Inge-
anous Diſcourſe : And from thence they
are led on to debate about Religious Confes
rence ; the Uſefulnefs, Eaſineſs, Prudence
and Gentility of which are largely demon-
ftrated : Of which Philander being convin-

cd, enquires #he Way of entring into it,
of continuing and managing of it. Tn
which being inſtrutted by Sebaſtian, he re-
ſolves to put it in prattice.

The

The Argument of the Second

Conference.

In the former Conference Sebaſtian having
- , coxvinced Philander of the great Impor-
tance of Religion, and the Wiſdom of mas-
king it as well the S ubject of ſocial Commus«
© mication, as of retired Meditation ; accor-
- dingly, they two meet on purpoſe, this Se-

- epnad Time, to conferr abowt it. But Bio-
philus, 4 Sceptical Perſoff being in their
Company, he at firit diverts them fron
their Deſign, by other Diſcourſe ; till, af-
fer a while, under the Diſguiſe of News,
be ts wheedled into this Subje@t before he was
aware : And then ne puts them upon the
Proof of thoſe Principles which they would
' bave [lone Upon this Occaſton the
Foundations of Religion are ſearched into ;

and particularly, that great Point concern-

#ng a Judgment to come, # ſubſt antially
proved : Which being done, and Biophilus

thereby rendred ſomewhat more inclinable
" to be ſerious, they then purſue their firit

Intentions, and diſcourſe warmly and ſen-
ſfivly of another World, and of the neceſſary

Preparations for it, ſo tong till they not 0n-

ly inflame their own Hearts with Devotion,

but ſtrike ſome Sparks of it into Biophi-

lus 4//o.

A

Winter-Evening
CONFERENCE
E/ Wh 1 |

PHILANDER's Houſe

D—

—__

PART. L

—

Good Evening to you, good
Philander, 1am glad to find
you in Health, and I hope
all your Family is fo too.

Philander, | humbly thank you, Sir, we are
all well (God be praiſed) and the better to ſee
you here; for | hope you come with intentions
to give usthe Diverſion of your good Company
this long Evening.

Sebaſt, If that will do you any pleaſure, I am
at your Service. For to deal plainly, 1 came
with the. reſolution to ſpend an hour or rwo
with you ; provided, it be not unſeaſonable for
your Occaſions, nor intrench upon any buſineſs
of your Family.

B Phil.

Sthaſtian.

2 — Winter-Evening Part I.

Phil. Bulineſs, Sir ! at this time of the Year
we are even weary with reſt, and tired with ha-
ving nothing to do.

Sebalt, 1t is a time of leiſure, I confeſs; the
Earth reſts, 'and ſo do we; yet, | thank God,
my time never lies upon my hands, for I can
alwa. find ſomething or other to employ my
ſelf in. When the Fields lie dead, and admit
of no Husbandry, Ithen can cultivate the little
Garden of my own Soul ; and when there is
na Recreation abroad, I have a Company of
honeſt old Fellows in Leathern Coats, which
find me Divertiſement at home.

Ptal. 1 know the Company you mean, though
| contels I have not much acquaintance with
them ; but do you not find it a melancholy
thing | to converſe with the dead ?

Sebaſt. Why ſhould you ſay they are dead ?
no, they are immortal, they cannot die, they
are al] Son}, Reaſon without Paſſion, and Elo-
quence without Noiſe or Clamour, Indeed they
do not eat and drink, by which only Argument
ſome Men now-a- days prove themſelves to be
alive, as Cyrus proved the Divinity of his God

Fel. But theſe are kept without coſt, and yet
retain the ſame Countenance and Humour, and
are always chearful and diverting. Belides, they
have this peculiar Quality, that a Man may have
their Company, or lay them alice at pleaſure
without Offence. Notwithſtanding, I mult
needs acknowledge, [ preferr the Company of a
go0d Neighbour before them ; and particularly
am well ſatisfhed that I cannot fpend this Even -
ing better than in your Converſation, and | am
conficent I ſhail Neep well at night, if firſt ſome
fricncly Cilics pals between us.
Phil,

Part I. Conference. 3
Phil. You doubly oblige me, good Sebaſtian,
firſt in your great condeſcenſion to make me
this kind viſit, and then in forſaking ſo good
Company for mine. |

Sebaſt. Your great Courteſie, Philander, in-
terprets thatto be an Obligation upon your ſelf,
which is but Self-love in me : for truly I am ſen-
ſible that ſo great a part of the comfort of Life
depends upon a man's good Correſpondence
with thoſe that are near about him, that I think
I cannot love my ſclfunleſs I love my Neighbour
alſo. And now, Sir, if you pleaſe, let us upon
this occaſion improve our Neighbourhood to a
more intimate Friendſhip, ſo that you and I
who have hitherto lived peaceably and inof-
fenſively by each other, may henceforth be-
come mutually uſeful and ſerviceable to one
another,

Phil. O g50d Sebaſtian, you talk of Self-love,
but I ſhall be fo far from ir, that I muſt hate my
ſelf, and that deſervedly too, ifI lay not hold
of ſo advantageous a propoſal.

Sebaſt. Dear Neighbour, no Complements,
I beſeech you, that will ſpoil our delign, and
continue us Strangers to each other.

Phil. If I were uſed to complement, yet 1
ſhould be aſhamed to make ſa ſuperficial a re-
turn to an overture of ſo much kindneſs and re-
ality ; butl am plain and hearty, and heartily
| imbrace both your ſelf and your motion.

Maid, make us a good Fire. |

Come, Sir, what will you drink ?

Sebaſt, All in good time, Sir. Pk:

Phil. Nay, never in better time 3 now is the
feaſon of drinking ; we muſt imitate the Plants,
and now ſuck in ſap to ſerve us all the Year

B 2 after z

4 A Winter-Evening Part I.
after : if you will flouriſh in the Spring, you
mult take in good Juices 1n the Winter,

Sebaſt. You ſeem, Philander, to dream of a
dry Summer, however Pl] pledge you, for 1 am
ſure the Winter is Cold.

Phil. Well, Sir, here is that will abate the
edge of the Weather, be it as ſharp as it can.
This drink will make the Evenings warm, and
the Nights ſhort in ſpight of the Seaſon,

Sebaſt, That would be a pleaſant Experiment,
but have you tryed it ?

Phil. Yes, very often, probatum eſt ; but then
you muſt take the full dote. Come, fear it not,
this will breed good Bloud,cure Melancholy,and
is the only Cement of rs Neighbourhood.

Is Sebaſt. Why then I hope our

— I» npling Hi- Friendſhip wil be bo for

of the Age ex- - gp

piſed, the Cement (as you cal it) is
ſtrong.

Phil. You are pleaſant, Sebaſtian: but now
that you and I are together ; and under the
Roſe too ( as they ſay ) why ſhould not we
drink ſomewhar briskly ? we ſhall know one
another and love one another the better ever
after. For, let me tell you, this will open our
Hearts, and turn our very infides outward.

Sebajt. That Trick, Philander, I confeſs I
have ſcen plaid, but I thought it a very unſeem-
ly one.

Phil. 1 doubt you miſtake me, I mean only
that a liberal Glaſs will take oif all refer vednels
in onr Converſation.

Sebaſt. | underſtand you,good Neighbour, but
with your Pardon 1 mult needs tell you, that [
' have vever been able to obſerve the Glafs you
ſpeak of to be ſo exatt a mirrour of Minds,
but

Part I. Conference. s

but as often to disfigure and diſguiſe Men, as
truly to repreſent them. Have you not found
ſome Men, who upon an infuſion in ſtrong Li-
quor, have ſeemed for the preſent to be totally
diſlolved into kindneſs and good Nature ; and
yet as ſoon as ever the drink is ſqueezed out of
theſe Sponges, they become again as dry, as
hard, and as rough as a Pumice, and as intraCta-
ble as ever. Others you ſhall obſerve to heftor
and ſwagger in their drink, as if they were of
the higheſt Mettle and moſt redoubted «© ourage,
whoſe Spirits nevertheleſs evaporating with
their Wine, they prove as tame errand Cowards
as any are in Nature. Perhaps alſo you may
have taken notice of a maudlin kind of Soakers,
who commonly relent when they are well moiſt-
ned, as if they ſhrunk in the wetting ; and will
at ſuch times ſeem to be very Devout and Reli-
gious, and yet for all this they continue as ſot-
fiſh as ever, as impenitent as a weeping Wall,
and as inſenſible as the groaning plank. Contra-
riwiſe there are ſome men, who in the general
habit of their Lives, appear to be very diſcreet
and ingenuous perſons ; yet if, contrary to their
Cuſtom, they have the misfortuneto bz ſurpri-
zed with drink, they become as dull as Dor-
mice, as flat and inſipid as Pompions.

I cannot think therefore that this Drink Or-
deal is ſo infallible a teſt of Mens Tempers as
you imagine; or if it were, yet there isno need
of it between you and me : we can candidly
and ſincerely lay open our Boſoms to each 0+
ther, without having a confeſſion of our Sen-
timents forced from us, by this new faſhioned
Dutch Torture. |
Phil. I muſt needs confeſs, Sebaſtian, that you

| B 3 raille

6 A Winter-Evening Part I.

raille at Tipling with ſo good a Grace, that I
cannot be ſorry I gave you the occaſion : but
ſtil] 1 doubt you miſtake me, I am not for ican-
dalons and debaunched Drinking, but in a civil
way between Friends, to make our Spirits light,
and our Hearts chearful.

Sebaſt. And, good Philander, do not miſtake
me, [ am not of that moroſe Humour to con-
demn all Chearfulneſs; neither do I take npon
me to preſcribe to every Mar. his juſt Doſe, or
think a Man muſt divide by an Hair, or be in-
temperate. I account good Wine as neceſſary as
good Meat, and in ſome Caſes more neceſlary :
Neither do [ doubt but a Man may make uſe of
it with a good deal of prudent Liberty; for 1
do not look upon the fruit of the Vine, as the
forbidden Fruir, or think ſo hardly of God Al-
mighty, as if he gave us ſo guod a Creature on-
ly to tempt and inſnare us. Yet on the other
ſide, 1 am perſwaded, that a Man may love his
Houſe, though he doth not ride upon the ridge
of it; and can by no means be of their Opinion,
whofanſie thereisno Freedom but in a Debauch,
no Sincerity without a Surfeit, or no Chearful-
neſs whilſt Men are in their right Wits. And I
look upon the very concelt of this as reproach-
ful both to God and Man, but the practice of ir
I am ſure is the bane of all manly Converſation.

Phil. 1 have known ſome Men'oppoſe one
Vice with another as bad or worſe; and who
whilſt they railed at drinking, have, in effect,
only made Apologies for ill Nature : but you,
Sevaſtian, though you ſpeak ſome very ſevere
Things, yet attemper them with fo much Hu-
manity, that I feel a kind of Pleaſure, even then
When you touch me to the quick ; therefore =
iT ET. thaCr

OW:

Part I. OF Conference. 7

that have ſo much good Nature your felf, will,
I preſume, make ſome allowances to Complai-
ſance in others. : |
Sebaſt. Far be it from me toundervalue good
Nature, which I have in ſo great eſteem, that I
ſcarcely think any thing is good withour it 3
It is the very air of a good Mind, the fign of a
large and generous Soul,and the peculiar Soil on
which Vertue proſpers. And as
for that genuine Fruit of it CNEDING
Complailſance, I take it ( if it
be rightly underſtood ) to be that which above
all things renders a Man both amiable and uſe-
ful in the World, and which as well ſweetens
as facilitates Converſation ; but the miſchief is
( as it generally happens to all excellent things)
there is a Counterfeit which (aſſuming thename)
paſſes current for it in the World, by which
Men become impotent and incapable of with-
ſtanding any Importunities, be they never ſo-un-
reaſonable, or reſiſting any Temptations be they
never ſo dangerous; but as if they were crippled
in their Powers, or crazed in their Minds, are
wholly governed by Example, and ſneakingly
conform themſelves to other Mens Humours and
Vices; and, in a word, become every Man's Foot
that hath the confidence to impofe upon them.
Now this is ſo far from that lovely maſculine
Temper of true Complaiſance, that it is indeed
no better than a childiſh Baſhfulneſs, a feeble
Puſillanimity, andfilly ſoftneſs of Mind, which
makes a Man firſt the Slave and Property, and
then at laft the Scorn of his Company. Where-
fore-it is the part of a Good-natured Man, nei-
ther ſo rigidly to inſiſt upon the puntilios of
bis Liberty or property, as to refuſe a'Glafs re-
| B 4 Com»

'$ A inter-Evening Part T.

commended to him by. civility z nor yet on the
other lide, to be either Heftored or Wheedled
out of his Chriſtian Name ( as we ſay) and
Sheepiſhly ſubmit himſelf to be taxed in his .
Drink,or other indifferent things at other Mens
Pleaſure. And if he ſhall fail into the Company.
of thoſe, who ſhall aſſume to themſelves ſuch an
Arbitrary Power, asto aſſeſs him at their own
rate, and preſc1ibe their meaſures to him ; 1do
not doubt but that with a /alvo both to good
Nature and Civility, he. may and ought ſo far
to aſllert his own Dominion over himſelf,as with
a generous diſdain to reject the Impoſition, and
look upon the Impoſers as equally Tyrannical,
and impertinent with thoſe who would pre-
ſcribe to me to eat their proportions of Meat,
or to wear my Clothes jult of their ſize. |

Phil. O Sir, your Diſcourſe is brave and wiſe
and virtuous, but one thing is wanting to make
me your Proſelyte; which is, that I doubt it is
not practicable; you cannot certainly but be
ſenſible how difficult a thing it is for Modeſty
and good Nature to oppoſe the prevailing Hu-
mour of the Age, which in plain truth is ſuch,
that now-a-days a Man looks very odly that
keeps any ſtrift meaſures of drinking,

Sebaſt. I am afraid it is too true which you
ſay; and though I have no mind to reproach,
or much leſs quarrel with the Age we live in ;
yet I confeſs to you, it isa matter of regret and
diſdain to mie to obſerve Skill in good Liquors
ambitiouſly pretended to, as if it were a very
conſiderable Point of Knowledge ; and good
Drinking looked upon as ſoimportant an Affair
of humane Life, that that time ſeemsto be loſt,
in which the Glaſs goes not round, and the wh

| s an

Part I. Conference. 9

and the Bottle ſeem to be the Hour-glaſs or the
only 'meaſure of Time. And this | the more
wonder at; becauſe the Air, the Climate, the
Conſtitutions of Mens Bodies are not changed, .
and the Laws of Temperance are the ſame they
were wont to be : and beſides all this, I do in-
genuouſly acknowledge the Age'to be extraor-
dinarily polite and ingennous; I would there-
fore very fain know, but have not hitherto
been able to ſatisfie my ſelf, from what cauſes
this change of Mens Manners in this particular
hath ariſen; -and what hath :
brought thts tipling 'Humour Plan » ab
into Faſhion.' + +! 7 * ;

Phil. You nced not ask my Opinion, for you
have anſwered your ſelf; it is a Faſhion, and
that you:know is changeable: without obſerva-
ble cauſes ; but becauſe, perhaps you think my
unhappy experience may 'enable -me to ſay
ſomething in the Caſe, I will tell you : Faſhi-
ons, you know, are commonly taken up for di-
ſtinttion-ſake ; for Men do not love to appear
in the Garb of thoſe whom they hate or de-
ſpiſe. Now there are a melancholy fort of
people amongſt us, that are wonderfully pre-
ciſe in their way ; Men of a kind of LeſſjanCon-
ſcience, that pretend to do all things by mea-
ſare, and indeed weigh ' every thing by ſcru-
ples, and conſequently (whatever they are to-
wards themſelves) are very ſevere in their cen-
ſures of other Men , inſomuch, that whatſo-
ever is. not: juſt after - their Mode 'and Hu-
mour, eſpecially if it look never ſo little airy
and light; -they preſently damr it as flat im-
morality and debauchery. Theſe Men ( how-
ever ſome of them may be:well-meaning and

pitiable)

= A Winter- Evening Part I.

pitiable) you will eafily grant muſt needs be
very troubleſome in the World. But then there
is another fort of Men, who being of a more
fanguine and chearful Temper,are not ſo ſtrait-
Hheed in their Principles, and conſequently are
apt to indulge themſelves a far greater Liberty
of Converſation ; and in deteſtation of the for-
mer whom they obſerve to be often abſurd and
unreaſonable, but always hidehound and phan-
taſtical, do (as it is too uſual in ſuch caſes) run
out vpon ſome extremity on the other ſide ; and
fo, in ſhort, it ſeems to me that unneceſlary
ferupulofity hath given occaſion and countenance
to its direct contrary; anq thus that Tipling
humour, as you call it, hath become the pre-
valling faſhion.

Sebaſt. In truth, Philander, the account you
have given Is ingcnious, and not improbable :
Bur, Lord, what a miſery is it that Men muſt al-
ways be upon extreams ! 1s there no middle ?
cannot: Men be merry and wiſe too ?is thereany
neceſſity that every Man muſt be intoxicated
ons way or other ? if one ſort be filly, muſt the
other be mad ? or if they be mad, muſt theſe
bedrunk ? For my part, I cannot tell whether
to call this DiſtinCtion (as you do) or Imita-
tion, or Infeftion or Faſcination, or what you
will, but fure I am, they are both very vitious
and abſurd.

Phil. Nay, Sebaſtian, | will not take upon
me altogether to juſtifie the PraCtice of the one
more than the other ;_ but now I am in, I will
( with your leave) give you notice of another
thing, that is thought to have a conſiderable
ſtroke in this buſinefs, and may in ſome meaſure
mitigate your cenſure of the Good-Fellows.
It

OUT nh * Ka) noone a

COUT wh _—_— _—__

Part I. Conference. 11

It is the Obſervation of wiſe Men, that general-
ly the Cuſtoms of People were taken up at firſt
upon the Account of ſome natural neceſlity or
defect (as we ſee generally Art ſupplies and per-
fets Nature.) Now you know we live in a cold
Climate, and conſequently muſt needs havedull
flegmatick Bodies, the influence of which upon
our Minds is ealily diſcernable ( amongſt other
inſtances )) by that extreme Modeſty and Baſh-
fulneſs, which is almoſt equally common to us
all, and peculiar to all that are ofthis Country,
and which ordinarily Tongue-ties us in all good
Company, until Wine have warmed us, and
diſſolved that ligament ; ſo that it ſhould ſeem
that Drinking 1s not altogether blame-worthy,
as being more neceſlary to us than to moſt other
People, if it were byt to make us ſprightly and
converſable : for as on the one ſide, you cannot
expect that all Men ſhould be able to converſe
together like a Company of dry Philoſopbers ;
ſo on the other, I know you would not have
Engliſhmen, when they are in Company, kold
a {ilent Quakerly Meeting.

Sebaſt. Now, Philander, you have mended the
matter finely, to avoid my cenſure of the Good-
Fellows (as you call them ) yon have cenſured

" the whole Nation as a Generation of dull Sotts -

and repreſented your Countrymen as a ſort of
People newly faſhioned out of Clay, and juſt
able to ſtand upright, but into whom God Al-
mighty hath put no Soul at all, but left that to
be extratted out of the Spirit of Wine , by
which means, when we have attained it ( and
not till then, it ſeems ) we may became like 0-
ther Folks, But in the mean time, 1 wonder what
became of all our ſober Anceſtors, agd ye
arly

12 A Winter-Ewening Part I.

larly of the dry Race of Qucer- Elizabeth-men (as
they are called. ) I cannot find but they had as
mach Soul and Spirit as the preſent Generation
( however they came by it ) though they never
made Alembicks of themſelves. Burt in earneſt,
Philander, | will confeſs ingenuouſly to you, that
as for ſach a dull ſort of earthly Men as you
ſpeak of, I ſhould not be much offended with
them, if they now and then got a little Froth
mto their Heads, to ſupply' their defe&t of
Brains; and if upon that occaſion they grew
fomewhat conceited and impertinent, the mat-
ter were not mnch, though the Metamorphoſis
might feem ſtrange, for a dull Aſs to become an
Ape or a Monkey : But then for the ſame reaſon,
the finer Wits ( and ſurely ſome ſuch there be )
ſfhonld tet it alone ; for that rational and inge-
mgous Men ſhould by this Cup of Circe, the ma-
gical Power of Wine, be transformed into ſuch
kind of Animals, methinks it is a thouſind pi-

ties. But why do you ſmile, Philander ? |
Phil. Even at my ſelf, good Sebaſtian, or at
leaſt at that picture you have drawn for me;
it would look a little ambitiouſly, if I ſhould
compare tny ſelf to the Land of Epypr, which,
they ſay, was fruitful in proportion to its being
overfiown ; ' but in plain truth, I am ſuch a ſpor
of Earth, as will bear nothing unleſs it be well
watered ; and to countenance my ſelf in this
condition, thongh I cannot pretend to Learning,
yet | remember 1 have heard that the graveſt
Philoſophers did uſe to water their Plants ( as
we ſay ) and ſometimes philoſophized over a
Glaſs of Wine. ' | |
Sebaſt. And why not over a Glaſs of Wine,
as well as by a Fire-ſide ? provided a Man tzke
| | care,

Part I. Conference. 13

care; that as by the one he does not burn his
Shins, ſo by the other he doth nat overheat his
Head ; or to follow your Metaphor, provided
a man only water the Soil, and do not drown
it, You know it is only Extreams that 1 find
fault with, when Men will be always ſipping
and dabling, as if their Bodies were nothing
but Pipes made on purpoſe to tranſmit Liquors
through ; or as if they had their Life and Soul
transfus?d into them from the Hogſhead.

Phil. Well, Sir, I perceive I am likely to get
nothing by my fine figure ; I will therefore {ay
no more of my ſelf ; but I have heard ſome
others ſay, they have always found their reaſon
to be ſtrongeſt, when their Spirits were moſt
exalted. |

Sebaſt. But ſure they did not mean that their
Reaſon was ſtrongeſt, when the Wine was too
ſtrong for them ? if they did, then either their
Reaſon was very ſmall at the beſt, and nothing
ſo ſtrong as their Drink; -or elſe we are quite
miſtaken in the names of things ; and ſo in plain
Engliſh, Drunkenneſs is Sobriety, and Sobriety,
Drunkenneſs: For who can imagine that that
which clouds the Head, ſhould enlighteaghe.
Mind ; and that which wildly agitates the Spi-
rits, ſhould ſtrengthen the Underſtanding z. or
that a coherent thred of Diſcourſe, ſhould be
fpun by a ſhattered vertiginous brain, it is
poſſible ſome odd Crotchets and Whimſeys may
at ſuch times be raiſed together with the Fumes;
or It is not unlikely, but that a man may then
ſeem wondrous wiſe in his own Eyes, when he
ſhall appear very ſilly and ridiculous to all 0-
thers that are not in the ſame condition with
himſelf; but to go about to make any thing

eter

3 3" inter-Evening Part I.

better of it, is a kind of liquid Enthuſiaſm:
And that this is no wild cotijefture or unchari-
table Opinion of mine, | appeal to this Experi-
ment ; tell me, g2od Phlander, what is the
Reaſon that Men in thoſe Jollities (we ſpeak of )
cannot endure the company of thoſe that will
not take their ſhare with them, but are moſt
pleaſed with ſuch as will rather exceed their
meaſure, and take off their Cups roundly ; is
it think you out of deſire that ſuch Men ſhould
be wiſer thanthemſelves, or the quite contrary ?
or what is the Reaſon that Men of this Pra-
ice are very ſhy of thoſe Perſons that will re-
member and repeat afterwards the Paſlages in
thoſe merry Aſſjgnations ? I make no doubr, bnt
when you have conſidered the Cafe, you will
find this to lie at the bottom, namely, that even
fuch Perſons are ſenſible that ſeveral things paſs
amongſt them at ſuch times for Wit and good
Humour, which when they hear of again, and
reflet upon in their ſober Intervals, they are
heartily aſhamed of, as apiſh and ridiculons
Fooleries.

* Buf-now, if ( after all ) I ſhould grant you
C which 1 do not unwillingly ) that Men well
whetted with Wine ( as they love to ſpeak )
are very ſharp and piquant, very jocoſe and rea-
dy at a repertee, or ſuch like ; yet beſides thar
this edge is ſo thin and Razor-like, that it will
ſerve to no manly purpoſes ; yet it 1s alſo very
dangerous, ſince at that time a wiſe [lan hath
it not in keeping.

Piil. Wal, 1 perceive hithertothe edge of my
Arguments turns at the force of your Replies ;
therefore I had beſt contend no longer with you
on that point, whether Wine raiſes Mens parts

w_

Part I. Conference. 15

or no: But one thing [ have yet to ſay, which 1
am ſure you muſt and will grant me, viz. that
it ſuppreſles Cares and Melancholy, and makes
a Man forget his Sorrows, ( that great Diſeaſe
of humane Life ) and this I ſuppoſe ſufficiently
comments the liberal uſe of it.

Sebaſt. That which you now ſay is undeniably
true ; and no queſtion, for this very end was
the juice of the Grape principally ordained by
the great Creator of the World ; bat yet I know
not how it comes to paſs, that this remedy is
ſeldomeſt made uſeof, by thoſe to whom it was
peculiarly preſcribed ; I mean, the melancholy
and dejeCted have ordinarily the leaſt ſhare of
it ; but it is very commonly taken by the pro-
ſperous,the ſanguine, and debonair, and ſuch as
have leaſt need of it; and theſe frequently take
it in ſuch large proportions, that it makes
them not only forget their Sorrows (if they had
any ) but themſclves and their buſineſs too. So
that upon the whole matter, I
ſee no tolerable account can be _T7#* real cauſes >.
given of the way of drinking _— P milehief,
now in faſhion ; for itappears «fir exazzerared.
to have been taken up upon no 1
neceſſity ; it is recommended by no real advan-
tage, either to the Body or Mind, and therefore
muſt owe its riſe to no better cauſes than dul-
neſs or idleneſs, a filly obſequiouſneſs to other
Mens humors, or Epicuriſm and Wantonneſs
of our own Inclination. And for the Habir of
It, it is no better than a lewd Artifice to avoid
thinking, a way for a Man to get ſhut of him-
ſelf and of all ſober Conſiderations.

It fills Men with more Spirits than it leaves
them able to Goverp; from whence they become

great

16 A Winter-Evening Part T.
great Talkers, proud Boaſters, capricious, inſo-
lent and. quarrelſome. For it ſo much dilates
and rarefies the Spirits,that they cannot bear up
2 weighty thought ; and while ſuch as thoſe are
ſonk and drowned, nothing but the. mere froth
and folly of Mens Hearts bubbles: up in their
Converſation. And this infenſibly growing up-
on. men, by degrees introduces an habitual va-
nity and impertinence, below the gravity and
dignity of humane Nature- and by means of
which, ſuch men become fit only for Toys and
Trifles,for apiſh Tricks and butioonly Diſcourſe;
which in concluſion do ſo far degrade a man
below his quality, that he becomes not only a
ſhame to bimſelf and his Family, but the con-
tempt of his very Servants and Dependents.

And touching this laſt, have you not ſome-
time obſerved, what dry Bobs; and farcaſtical
Jeers the moſt underling Feilows will now and
then beſtow upon their Letters, when they have
found them faultering in this kind : Was nor Ma-
fer ſuch @ one cruelly cut laſt night ? ſays one. How
hike a drowned Rat was Maſter ſuch a one ? ſays
another. How wiſely our Maſter looks when he
bath got his doſe ? ſaith a third, |

Shall I need after all this, to repreſent the Sin
committed againſt God Almighty, :by this vain
Cuſtom, in the breach of his Laws, . deforming
his Image, and quenching his Spirit ; or the in-
jury it doth to humane Society, in the riotous
and profuſe expence of ſo comfortable a Cordi-
al and Support of humane Life ; or, ſhall I but
reckon up the miſchicfts a man hereby incurrs
to his own perſon, the danger of his Health,
"the damage to his Fortunes, the — —

Phil.

Part I. Conference. 17

Phx/. O, no more, no more, good Sebaſtian, [
am yours, you have ſilenced, you have van-
quiſhed me; | am not able to reſiſt the evidence
of truth in-your Diſcourſe, you have quite
marr®d a good Fellow, and ſpoil d my Drin-
king. |

But how then ſhall I treat you ? Come, you
arefor ſerious Things, what ſay you to a Game
at Tables ? Methinks that is both a grave and
a pleaſant entertainment of the time.

Sebaſt. Truly, Sir, I am fo unskilful at that
and moſt other Games, that I ſhould rather
give you trouble than diverſi-
on at it. But what need you ._,, my ,
be ſolicitousfor my Eotertain- 7, 2724 o
ment ; It is your Company on-
ly which I deſire. And methinks it looks as if
Friends were weary one of the other, when they
fall.to Gaming.

Phil. But I ſhould think a Man of your tem-
per might have a fancy for this Game, as upon
other reſpects, ſo eſpecially becauſe it ſeems to
be a pretty Emblem of the World.

Sebaſt, As how, I pray you, Sir ?

Phil. Why, io the firſt place, the caſual agi-
tation of the Dice in the Box, which unaccoun-
tably produceth ſuch, or ſuch a Lott, ſeems to
me to repreſent the diſpoſal of that inviſible
Hand which orders the Fortunes of Men; And
then the dextrous management of that Lott or
Caſt by the Gameſter plainly rejembles the uſe
and efficacy of humane prudence and induſtry
in the Condutt of a Man's own Fortunes. |

Sebaſt. I perceive, Philander, that you play
like a Philoſopher as well as a Gameſter z bur
in my opinion you have forgotten the main re-

GC ſemblance

18 AW. inter-Exening Part T.

ſemblance of all, which is, That the Clatter
and Noiſe in toſling and tumbling-the Dice and
Table-men up and down, backward and for-
ward, lively deſcribes the hurry and tumult of
this World, where one Man goes up and ano-
ther tumbles down; one is dignified and prefer-
red, anotheris degraded ; that Man reigns and
triumphs, this Man frets and vexes ; the one
laughs, the other repines ; and all the reſt tug
and ſcuffle to make their advantage of one ano-
ther. Let this, if you pleaſe, be added to the
Moralof your Game. But when all is done, I
muſt tell you, for my part, I am not ſo muck
taken with the Original, as to be fond of the
Typeor Effigies; I mean, bam not ſo in love
with the World, as to take any great delight
in ſeeing it brought upon the Stage, and acted
over again : But had'much rather retreat from
it, when Ican, and give my ſelf the content-
ment of repoſe, and quiet thoughts.

Phil.. However, I hope you are not offended
at my mention of that Game. Do you think it
unlawful to uſe ſuch Diverkon ?

Sebaſt, No, Dear Phil. |] am not of that au-
ſtere Humour to forbid delightful Exerciſes ;
for I am ſenſible, that whilſt Men dwell in Bo-
dies, It 1s fit they not only keep them up 1n ne-
ceſlary reparation by meat and drink, bur alſo
make them as lightſome and cheerful as they
can,otherwiſe the Mind will have but an uncom-
fortable Tenancy. The Animal Life, I ſay, muſt
be conſidered as well as the Intellectual, and our
Spirits have need to be relaxed ſometimes, leſt
the keeping them continually intent weaken
and infeeble them ſo, that they cannot ſerve

us in greater purpoſes; I would therefore as
foon

1,

Part I. Conference. 19

ſoon univerſally forbid all Phyſick, as all kind
of Exerciſe and Diverſion, and indeed rather
of the two, for I think the latter may in agreas
meaſure ſave thetrouble of the former, but that
will do little or no good without this. |
Neither do I think even thoſe Games of
Chance abſolutely unlawful ; 1 have ſometimes
made uſe of this in particular which you men-
tion, or the like to it, upon ſome occalions: As
for inſtance, when I took Phylick, and could
neither be allowed to walk abroad, nor to be
ſerious and thoughtful within doors; I have
ſupplied both for that time with a Game at
Tables. Or, it may be, whenl have happened
to be engaged in ſome kind of Company, I have
play?d not ſo much to divert my ſelf with the
Game, as to divert the Company froni ſome-
thing that was worſe, But to deal freely with
you : Though I do not altogether condemn,
yet I cannot very much commend theſe kind of
Sports; for indeed 1 ſcarce think them Sports,
they are rather a Countertfcit kind of Bulineſs,
and wearies ones head as much as real ſtudy and
buſineſs of importance. So that in the uſe of
them a \ian only puts a cheat upon himſelf and
tickles himſelf to death ; for by applying him-
ſelf for delight to theſe buſie and thoughtful
Games, he becomes like a Candle lighted at
both ends, and muſt needs be quickly waſted
away between jeſt and earneſt, whenas both
his Cares and his Delights prey upon him.
Belides, I obſerve, that Diverſions of this na-
ture having ſo much of Chance and Surprize in
them, do generally too much raiſe the paſſions
of Men, which it were fitter by all Arts and En-

deayonrs to charm c_ and ſuppreſs. For, to

2 ſay

20 A Winter-Evening PartT.

fay nothing of the uſual accidents of common
Gaming- Houſes, which ( asI have heard from
thoſe that knew too wel)) are the moſt lively
Pifures.of Hell upon Earth, and where it ts
ordinary for Men to rave, ſwear, curſe and bla-
ſpheme, as if the Devil was indecd among(t
Them, or the Men were transformed into Infer-
nal Spirits; I have ſeen ſad' Examples of Ex-
travagance in the more modeſt and private, but
over-capger purſuits of theſe Recreations : in-
ſomuch that ſometimes a well-tempercd perſon
hath quite loſt ail command of himſelf at them:
So that you might ſee his Eyes fiery, his Colour
inflamed, his Hands th tremble,his Breath to be
ſhort, his Accents'of Speech fierce and violent ;
by all which and abundance more ill-favoured
Symptoms, you'might conclude his Heart to be
hot, and his Thovghts ſolicitous, and indeed
the whole Man, Body and' Soul; to be in an
Agony. Now will you call this a Recreation,
or a Rack and Forture rather ? A Rack certain-
ly ; which makes a Man betray thoſe Follies
whichrevery wiſe Man ſeeks to conceal, and
heightens thoſe Paſſmons which every good Man
endeavours to ſubdne.

And, which is yet worſe (as I was ſaying)this
courſe looks like the accuſtoming of the Beaſt
to be rampant, and to run without the Rein.
For by indulging our Paſſions in jeſt we get an
habit of them inearneſt, and accordingly ſhall
find our ſelves to be inclined to be wrathfu},
peeviſh and clamorous, when we apply our
ſelves to buſineſs, or more grave converſatiorr.

To all which add, That Gaming {and eſpeci-
ally at ſuch Games as we are ſpeaking of )doth
inſenſtbly ſteal away too much of our time

from-

ws I... dab” a "I

nn at

_
es. ts. A <A as

Oo CN _ rw er yr TT yg, .

Part I. Conference. 2

from better-buſineſs,and temprs us to be Prodi-
gals and Bankrupts-of that which no good For-
tune can ever redeem or repair. And this is ſo
notoriouſly true, that there is hardly any Man
who ſets himſelf down to theſe Paſtimes ( as
they are called ) that can break off and recall
himſelf when he deſigned ſo to do. Foraſmuch
as either by the too great intention of his Mind,
he forgets himſelf ; or the anger ſtirred up by
his misfortnnes, and the indignation to go off
baffled, ſuffers him not to think of any thing
but revenge, and reparation of his Loſles, or
the hopes he is fed withal trowls him on, or
ſome witchery or other tranſports him ſo be-
ſides his firſt reſolutions, that Buſineſs, Health,
Family, Friends, and even the Worſhip of God
it ſelf, are all ſuperſeded and neglefted for the
ſake of this paltry Game.

All which conſidered, I am really afraid there
is more of the Devil in-3t than we are ordinari-

ly aware of, and that it is a temptation of his

to engage us in that, where he that wins moſt
is ſure to loſe that which is infinitely of more

value. Therefore upon the whole matter I

think it much ſafer to keep out of the Liſts than
to engage ; where, beſides the greatneſs of the
ſtake, a Man cannot bring himſelf off again
without ſo great difficylty.

Pardon me, dear Philander, if my zeal or in-
dignation (or what you will callit) hath tranſ(-
ported me in this particular ; ſare I am I have
no intention to reproach your praCtice, nor to
affront you for your motioning this ſport to me,
but ſpeak out of hearty good-will, and to give
you caution, |

C 3 Phil,

22 M Winter. Evening Part 1.

Phil. O Sebaſtian! 1 love-you dearly, and
thank you heartily for the freedom your have
nſed with me. We good-natar'd Men ( as the
World flatters us, and weloveto be ſtyled) con-
fidering little of nothing our ſelves, and having
ſeldom the Happineſs of difcreet and faithful
Friends that will have ſo much concern for us as
to admoniſh us of our Imprudences and our dan-
gersy as it we were mere Machines, move juſt
as other Men move and: prompt us, and fo
Drink, Play, and do a thouſand Follies -for
Company ſake, and under the continuance of
one anothers Example : God forgive me, I have
too often been an inſtance of that which you
now intimated : I therefore again and again
thank you for your advice, and hope I ſhall re-
member as 1ong as I live what you have ſaid on
this occaſion. - | STIR |

But that you may work a perfect Cure upon
me, I will be ſo true to my ſelf as to acquaint
you faithfully with what I apprehend to be the
Cauſe of this Epidemical Diſtemper. I find the
| EY common and moſt irreſiſtible

—_ CO Temptation both to Drinking
Drinking 29 GY and Gaming is, the unskilful-
ining. , .. neſsof ſuch Men-as my ſelfro
= employ onr time without ſuch

kind of Diverſions, eſpecially atthis Seaſon of
the year, when the dark and long Evenings, foul

Ways and ſharp Weather, drive us into Clubs
and 'Comibjnations. / If therefore you will deat
freely and friefidly with me herein, and-by yonor
prudence help me over this difficulty, you will
exceedingly oblige me, and-do an att worthy
of your ſelf, and of that kindneſs which brought

you hither...
| Schaſt,

P "2,
Ds. tin dd” ddd PT, *

Part I, C onference, 23

Sebaſt. There is nothing, Dear Phi. within
my power which you may not command me in.
Nor is there anything wherein 1 had rather
ſerve you (if I could) than in a bulineſs of thisna-
ture. But all I can do, and as I think all that is
needfal in this Caſe is, to defire you to conſider
on it again, and then I hope you will find the
difficulty not ſo inſuperable as you imagine. It
is very true, Idleneſs is more painful than hard
I.abour, and nothing is more weariſome than
having nothing to do: Beſides, as a rich Soil
will be ſure to bring forth Weeds, if it be nog
ſowed with more profitable Seed ; ſo the aftive
Spirits in Man will be ſure to prompt him to
evil, if they be not employed in doing good.
For the Mind can no more bear a perfect ceſla-
tion and intermiſſion, than the World a Vacuum.

But this difficulty which you repreſent, gene-
rally preſſes young Men ory : Thcie indeed
having more Sail than Balaſt ; I mean having a
mighty vigour and abundance of Spirits, but
not their Minds furniſhed with a ſii/ficient ſtock
of Knowledge and Experience to govern and
employ thoſe ative Spirits upon; no wonder if
ſuch perſons, rather than do juſt nothing, and
in defect of real Buſineſs, do greedily catch at
thoſe ſhadows and reſemblances of ir, ( as I re-
member you ingeniouſly called Drinking and
Gaming. ) Beſides, theſe fort of Perſons ſeem-
ing tothemſelves to havea great deal of time be-
fore them, are eaſily drawn to ſpend it the more
laviſhly, as out of an unmeaſurable Store. But
what 15 all this to Men that are entred into real
buſineſs, and have concerns under their hand,
and the luxuriancy of whoſe Spirits is taken oft

by Cares and Experience, and eſpecially who
3A C4 cannot

24 A Winter-Evening Part I.

cannot (without unpardonable ſtupidity ) but
be ſenſible how daily the time. and Age of Man
wears away. Now | ſay, why time ſhould be
ſo burthenſome to ſuch as theſe, or what 7
betray them to ſuch infrugal Expences of it, I
profeſs, for my part, I can give no account,
without making ſevere retle(tions on their diſ-
cretion.

Phil. Aſſign what cauſes of it you can, or
make what refleCtions uppnit you pleaſe, how-
ever the matter of fact is certainly true in the

eneral, That a Gentleman'stime is his burthen,
os ;hether he be young or old ) and the want of
Employment for it, his great temptation to ſe-
veral Extravagances. |
Sebaſt, I muſt believe it to be as you ſay, be-
PETS RP" cauſe you know the World bet-
Life ar babe" as) than I do, and [ am confi-
other Mens. dent you will not miſreport it,
But really, Phil. it is very
ſtrange it ſhould be ſo ; and I am ſure cannot be
verified. without very ingrateful. returns to the
Divine Bounty, which hath made ſo liberal and
ample proviſions for the delight and content-
ment of ſuch perſons far above the rate of
others, It is true, they have leſs bodily labour
and no drudgery, to exhauſt their Time and Spt-
rits upon (and that methinks ſhould be no grie-
vance). but then the prudent management of a
plentiful Fortune, ( if things be rightly confi-
dered ) doth not take up much leſs time than
the poor Man's labour for neceſſities of Life.
For what with ſecuring the Patrimopy and Hul-
banding the Revenue, what with letting and
ſetting his Lands, and building and repairing his
Houſes, what with planting Walks, and Don

4 Fig

”

Fart I. Conference. 25

fying his Gardens, what with accommodating
himſelf according to his Quality, and hoſpita-
bly treating his Friends and Neighbours accor-
ding to theirs z anc, to ſay no more, what with
keeping Accounts of all this, and governing a
numerous and well-fed Family, I am of opini-
on, that (all this taken together) the Gentle-
man hath indeed the more pleaſant, but a no
leſs buſie Employment of his time than other
Men : Inſomuch that I cannot but ſufpeCt that
he muſt be deficient in ſome principal Branch of
good Husbandry, and defrauds his buſineſs that
{urfeits on leiſure,

Moreover, as Divine bounty hath exempted
ſuch Men as we ſpeak of from the common ſweat
and anxiety of Life, by thoſelarge Patrimonies
his Providence and the care of Parents hath pro-
vided to their hands ; ſo the ſame Divine Ma-
jeſty hath thereby obliged them, and it is ac-
cordingly expetted from them by the World,
that they be'more publickly ſerviceable to their
Prince and Countrey, in Magiſtracy, in making
Peace, and ſeveral ways affiſting Government,
and promoting the ends of humane Society -
ppon which account, as it is very unjuſt that
others ſhould envy and malign them for their
enjoyments, ſo it is apparent alſo, that they
are ſo far from having leſs to do than their In-
feriors, that on the contrary the Gentleman's
Life ſeems to be far the buſier of the two.
Beſides all this, Gentlemen having uſually
more ingenuous Education, and conſequently
are preſumed to have more exerciſed and im-
proved Minds, may therefore be able to em-
ploy themſelves, 1f all other buſineſs ceaſed,
and fill up the vacant ſpaces of their time with
4 . » oS ' b. | 4 p {nch

26 A Winter-Evening Part T,

ſuch delightful and profitable Entertainment as
others are incapable of.

Phil. That, Sir, that laſt Point is the thing I
would fain learn, namely, how to fill up the
vacant ſpaces.of Life (as you call it ) ſo as to
leave no room. for temptation to Debauchery.

Sebaſt. 1 am heartily glad to ſee you of that
Mind ; but I aſſure'my ſelf there is nothing I
can ſay to it, but what your owndiſcretion will
prevent me in. However if it be your deſire
that I ſhould enlighten your thoughts by open-
ing of my own, we will then if you pleaſe exa-

mine this matter between us,

An eſtimate and bythat time we have com-
p wank y ors pared the Period of our Lives
of Man's Life, With the variety of buſineſs

that occurs in it, I am out of
all doubt that you will be then throughly ſatiſ-
fied that we have neither ſo much time as to be
a- burtaen tous, nor if it were more than it is,
ſhould we be at a loſs for the beſtowing of it.
And this, without reſorting to any of the Ex-
travagances aforementioned.

Let us then in the firſt place ſuppoſe that the
Lives of Men at this Ape of the World, and
particularly in this Climate and Country, A-
mount commonly to ſeventy Years; for though
It is poſſible here and there one out-lives that
term, yet it is pretty evident by the moſt pro-
bable Calculations, that there is not above one
Man in thirty or thereabouts that arrives at that
Age : However, I ſay, let usat preſent ſuppoſe
that to be the common Standard.

Now to diſcover what an inconſiderable du-
ration this is,.let us but ask the opinion of thoſe
that have arrived at; it, and they will aſſluredly

tell

Part I. Conference. 27

tell us, that all that whole term when it it paſt
ſeems to bea very ſhort ſtage, and quickly run
over ; or if we had rather truſt to our own ex-
perience, let us look back upon twenty or thir-
ty years of our own Lives, which though it bear
a very great proportion towards the Leaſe of
our whole Lives, yet when it is over ſeems to be
but a little while to us, and that Time, asit is
uſually pitured, fled upon Wings ——

Phil. 1 pray pardon me, if I a little inter-
rupt the thread of your Diſcourſe ; you may
ealily continue it again, and for failing I wilt
remember where you left off. That which I
would ſay by the way is this, I can verifie the
truth of what you were ſuppoſing, by my own
Experience, and have often . wondred what
ſhould be the reaſon of it, that Men have quite
different apprehenſions of time paſt and time
to come. When we look back ( as you well
obſerve ) upon twenty -or thirty years which
are gone,: they ſeem but a trice to us ; but if
we look forward, and forethink of ſo many
years to come, we are apt to fanſic we havean
Ocean before us, and ſuch avaſt proſpect that
we can ſee no end of it. Now I ask your Opt-
nion, what it is that puts ſuch a fallacy upon
us, for other it cannot be; foraſmuch as the
ſame term of years, whether it be reckoned
forward or backward, paſt or to come, muſt
needs really be of the ſame length and dura-
tion.

Sebaſt. It is verily ſoas you ſay, and the Ob-
ſervation is very ingenious and pertinent to the
buſineſs in hand, But to give you an account
of the reaſon of that different eſtimate, I can
ſay but theſe two things, 44z.. Either as it is in
F . S: 7 "Wo. the

Q$ A Winter-Evening Part T.

the nature of hope to flatter us, ſo all things
ſcem bigger at a diſtance; and whilſt they are
in expectation only, than what wecan find them
to be in fruition. Or elſe it muſt be, that what
is paſt 'of our Lives we have freſh and lively
remarks upon, by remembring the notable paſ-
fages that have fallen out within that compaſs,
by which means thoſe equally remote portions
of time are brought nearer to our eye.

But on the contrary, in the time which is to
come, wecan hayeno remarks upon it; becauſe
not knowing what ſhall happen, we-have no-
thing to fix our Thoughts upon, and ſo it
looks like a vaſt Ocean to us. For you know
that things which are in confuſion ſeem to be
more than the fame things when they are dige-
ſted into juſt order and method. And in tra-
velling, you obſerve that twenty or thirty miles
which weare well acquainted with, and have
frequently traced, ſeem ſhort and inconſidera-
ble; but the ſame length of Journey in an un-
known Way ſeems very tedious and formidable
to us. ThusI think it is in the Caſe you have
propounded ; but now, if you pleaſe, let us paſs
on where we were going.

I fay then, ſuppoſe the term of our lives be.
eſtimated at the duration of about ſeventy years,

| | yet in the firſt-place we muſt

a 6 mg /*4 ſubdu& from this Summ a ve-
litleneſs of 'or TY conſiderable part as taken
ſpare-time, up in Childhood and Youth,
and which ſlips away we know

not how, ſo as to eſcape our obſervation, being
wholly ſpent in folly and impertinency, but cer-
tainly loſt to: all manly purpoſes - to which if

you add the infirmitjes of Old Age, ( which
eg though

8
4 »
a
. at * »
9: '_ ,
; - :
"4 :;

Part TI. Conference. 29

though it do not equally in all Men, yet ) al-
ways more or leſs renders ſome part ofour time
uſeleſs ; you will think it no unreaſonable Po-
ſtulatum if 1 ſuppoſe that both together take up
a third part of the whole.

Then, in the next place, let us conſider how
great a proportion is taken up in ſtep, in eat-
ing and drinking, in dreſſing and undreſling, in
trimming and adorning, and, to be ſhort, in the
mere necefjity of the Body. I have read of a
brave Saxon Prince of this our Native Coun-
trey, whoallowed only eight hours in the Day,
or one third part of his time, to theſe uſes ; but
I doubt few mean Men follow his Example -
and if we take meaſures from common experi-
ence, we ſhall find that theſe meaner Offices
take up near, if not altogether, half the time
of moſt perſons. And ſo another third of the
whole is gone, and only one poor third remain-
ing for all other occaſions,

Then again, out of that remainder a very
great ſhare will be challenged by neceſlary bu-
lineſs, the Afffairs of our Eſtate or Calling, and
the Concerns of our Families ; and theſe occa-
ſions are ſo importunate that they will not be
denied without culpable ill Husbandry, nor
gratified without a large proportion of the a-
foreſaid remainder,

Moreover, whether we will or no, another
part will be raviſhed from us by Sickneſs and
Phyſick, in Civility and Complement, in Viſi-
ting and being Viſited, in Journies and News,
and a thouſand Impertinences ; ſo that he muſt
be a very good and wary Husband indeed that
ſuffers not great Expences this way. -

And after all this, here is nothing for read-

ing

; 30 A W inter-Ewening Part I.

ing and Study, for Meditation and the Improve-
mznts of our own minds; nay, not for Reli-
gion and Devotion towards God, and the un-
{peakable Concerns of another World, which
in all reaſon may moſt juſtly put in for their
ſhares.
' Pl. All this is very true 3 but what do you
inferr from this Account ? _

Sebaſt. 1 dare truſt your Judgment to make
Inferences from the Premiſes : For, in the firſt
place I know you! cannot fail to obſerve, and
that with a juſt indignation, that the lighteſt
matters of our life have the greateſt ſhare of
our time ſpent in them : Folly and Infirmity,
Infancy and Dotage, take up the greateſt room
of all : then worldly Buſineſs and Pleaſure ex-
hauſt the moſt of that which is left, and the
Mind and nobleſt Intereſts have leaſt of all leſt
for them.

And then ſecondly; you cannot but note
with admiration how very little ſhare God
Almighty hath even from the very beſt of Men.
And you cannot but adore his Goodneſs, which
rewards with Eternal Life that little time in
which Men work in his Vineyard ; for whe-
ther Men come in at the Eleventh Hour or
ſooner, it is too plain that ſcarcely an Eleventh
Part of our time is ſpent in his Service. But
that which I aim at in this Calculation is, to
demonſtrate to you that there is a great deal
more reaſon that Men ſhould endeavour rather
to redeem Time from leſler occaſions than to
laviſh it in Impertinences, that ſo our weigh-
tier Concerns may have the more tolerable al-
lowances: And'to be ſare he muſt be a very

foft and feeble Man, that after all theſe ends
are

Part I. Conference. 31
are ſerved, can complain that Time lies up-
on his hands, which was the thing to be prg-
ved.

Phil, I am now amazed at my own ſtupidi-
ty, that could think fir to put ſuch a caſe to
you. Lord ! what vain Fools are we, that
complain of plenty when we are rather ſtrait-
ned and in want ? What fiily Prodigals are we,
that are ſo far from ſparing betimes, that we
are not ſo much as frugal, when all theſe claims
and demands come in ſo thick upon us ? I have
often heard it ſaid, that by keeping a ſtrict
account of [ncomes and Expences, a Man might
ealily preſerve an Eſtate from dilapidation ;
but now [ perceive, that for the want of a little
of your Arithmetick to zumber our days, we run
out our Leaſe of Life before we are awarez
and fanſying we have enough to ſquander away
apon every trifle, we have ordinarily little or
nothing left to defray the moſt weighty oc-
caſions.

And, with your pardon, let me tell you, I
think now | have found where theShooe pinches:
It is not (I perceive now) a ſurpluſlage of time
that tempts us to ſeek out thoſediverſions afore-
faid ; but the mere vanity of our Mind, which
hatha fondneſs for them : and then Cuſtom and
Example have made them fo natural and al-
molt neceſlary to us, that we think the time long
till we are at them. Not that we have much to
ſpare, for God knows we have little enough ,
but becauſe we think much of all that which is
otherwiſe employed. And this I doubt is the
true reaſon why we are imparient of long Pray-
ers, and offended witha long Sermon ;z which
whoſo obſeryes, would perhaps charitably ſup-

pole

32 A Winter-Evening Part [.

poſe, that the urgency of Buſineſs would not
permit us to attend them ; but we utterly de-
prive our ſelves of that pretence when we com-
plain that time lies upon our hands. To ſpeak
truth therefore, and ſhame the Devil and our
ſelves too, we can hardly ſpare time for God,
becauſe we love him too little: but we have
abundance of ſpare time for our idle Diverſions,
only becauſe we love them too much.

Sebaſt. Dear Phil. you have hit the very

"EN | Mark : but let us go on, and
ſant Emplaynents fuppoſe that our ſpare time
of Time. were more than it is or poſl7-

bly can be ( upon the Premi-
ſes) yet it will be no hard matter to find out
more pleaſant, as well as more innocent, enter-
tainments of it than thoſe now in requeſt.

For inthe firſtplace, thereare ſome Employ-
ments every whit as delightfal as Recreatiors
themſelves ; ſuch as in particular, Planting and
Gardening, in waich a Man may not only have
the pleaſure to contemplate theadmirable beau-
ty and variety of th: Works of God, but by
:mproving the nature of Plants; by altering the
fpecies; by mixture and compoſition of ſeveral
beauties and perfeftions into one, by deducing
one out of another, exalting one by another,
and in a word, by giving being and continuance
fo ſeveral things, he becomes a kind of Crea-
tor himſelf, if 1 may without offence uſe ſuch
an expreſſion. This kind of buſineſs miniſters ſo
many and ſo raviſhing Delights, that I remem-
ber Cato preferred it before all the Pleaſure of
Youth, and thought the entertainment of his
elder Years herein a good exchange for the vo-
tuptuvuſneſs of younger Years, which he had

now

Part I. _ Conferente. 33

now loſt all uſe and apprehenſion of. Nay, I
think Epicurs himſelf placed a good part of his
Felicity in the delights of his Gatden.. And,
above all, I am certain that God Almighty, who
knew beſt what Satisfaftions were to be found
within the whole Sphere of his Creation, and
was not invidious or niggardly towards Men,
made choice of this for the entertainment of our
firſt Parents in their ſtate of Innocency, and be-
fore their Folly and Sin had damned them to
Care and Toil, and to the Sweat of their Brows.

Again, There are ſome Exercifes and Recrea-
tions, both of Body and Mind, which are very
ingenuous, as well as divertive ; ſuch as Sing-
ing, Muſick, Painting, and the like; in which
a Man rather puts a pleaſant Deception upon
himſelf in point of Time, than wholly loſes it.
And they are ſo far from debauching his Mind;
or raiſing. his Paſſions, that they only exalt a
Man's Fancy, but otherwiſe compoſe his Tem-
per even to admiration. --

And if you will promiſe not to laugh at my
peculiar Humonr, I will referr another Inſtance
to this Head, and tel] you, That methinks the
playing with a pretty-humour?d Child of three
or four Years old, or. more or lefs, is ſcarcely
inferior in delightfulneſs to any of the former z
where you ſhall obſerve Innocency of- Mind,
Benignity of Temper, ſweet and-gentle Paſſions,
eaſie and unforced Mirth, unfeigned Love, pret-
ty Endearments of Afffetion, pleaſant Endea-
vours to ſpeak and expreſs it ſelf, little Dawn-
ings of Reaſon and Fancy, and innumerable o-
ther things, which a Man can feel rather than
expreſs. I called this my peculiar Fancy; but E
do not know why it ſhould be peculiar'to me z

D t ſup-

34 A Winter-Evening Part T.

I ſuppoſe it may be more general : However, I
confeſs to you I am much the better pleaſed
with it, becauſe I find in the Goſpel that our
Saviour himſelf was not diſpleaſed with 1t.

Beſides all theſe, there are ſome Offices of
Humanity and Charity which afford a Man un-
ſpeakable delight in the diſcharge of them :
Such as comforting a Friend or Neighbour in

his affliction, or aſliſting and counſelling him in
his difficulties; promoting Peace, and making
an end of Controverſies; relieving a poor
Man in his hunger, &c. In all which, beſides
the ſatisfaftion a Man hath in his own mind,
upon conſideration that he hath done well and
worthily, he is alſo ſenſible of a re-aCtion, and,
as It were by refleCtion, participates of the plea-
ſure thoſe Perſons find by his good Offices to-
wards them : For, to ſay nothing of any of
the other, what a refreſhment is it to our own
Bowels, to obſerve the Appetite and Guſto
with which a poor hungry.Man feeds upon that
which you charitably ſupply him with; And it
will do a Man's heart good to take notice of the
ſtrange change wrought in ſuch a Perſon by a
bountiful entertainment ; his countenance more
chearful, his ſpirits brisk, his heart light, his
whole temper more ſweet and ingenuous. All
which who can be acceffary to, without a kind
of yertwous Epicuriſm ?

All theſe which I haye named are ſincere and.
manly pleaſures, without noiſe, and without
danger; .-which neither. raiſe; a Man's paſſions,
nor drown:his reaſon : They are yeither fo fine
and:ſpiritnal, that the Body can haye no partici-

pation of them: ;; ;nor-ſo groſs and: feculent, that

the mind hould: be ——_ of them, And in
ſome

Part I. Conference. 35

ſome or other of theſe every Man that pleaſes
may ſpend his vacant hours with ſatisfaCtion.

But let me now go alittle higher ; and what
if we take in ſomewhat of the other World to
ſweeten the preſent Life ? What think you, af-
ter all, of Prayer to God, aad Reading the
Scripture ? May not a Man be-
ſtow ſome of his time in theſe
with as much pleaſure as de-
votion, and fo (to allude to
Modern Philoſophy ) fill up the void ſpaces of
his Life with Celeſtial Matter ?

As for the former of them, Prayer, Iremem-
ber you well obferved, that ſeveral of thoſe Men
that complain as if they were over-burthened
with time, yet love to make as ſhort work with
this as they can; wherein they betray either
ſome meaſure of Atheiſm in their hearts, or a
great deal of ſenſuality in theig AffeRtions : And
] cannot tell whether they more contradiCt
themſelves, or diſcover--their ſhameful igno-
rance of the nobleſt pleaſures of Life, For be-
ſides that it is highly agreeable.to the beſt rea-
ſon of a Man's mind, that he ſhoald do all ho-
nour to the Divine Majeſty, and daily pay his
homage to his greateſt Benefaftor; and nothing,
ſure,can be more delightful, than the exerciſe of
our higheſt Powers about their proper Object.
And. belides that Prayer is the known way to
obtain the Divine Bleſſing, upon which all the
pleaſure and comfort of our Lives depend, and
never fails of Succeſs one way or other.-

Beſides all this, I ſay, and abundance of o-
ther advantages of it, it is the very pulſe of
the Soul, which keeps the Spirits florid and vi-
fal; it anſwers to the Motion of the Lungs in

| D 2 the

Of Prayer, and
Reading the Scri-
ptures.

36 AW inter-Evening Part I.

the Body, and exhales thoſe melancholy Vapours
that would choak and ſuffocate our Eearts :
By it we put our ſelves under the Divine Prote-
ion, and our Spirits are heightned and forti-
fied by the Patronage of ſo high a Genizs, wha
can ſecure us againſt all Aſſaults and Dangerf
whatſoever. When we have commended our
ſelves tothe Divine Providence by Prayer, our
Hearts are at reſt ; we are fecure ſleeping and
waking; we are never alone, but have always
one to ſecond us ; whatever the Iſſue and Snc-
ceſs of our Endeavours be, our Minds are quiet-
ed; if Things anſwer our Wiſhes, we have a
double Satisfaction, that God Almighty favours
us, aswell as that our Labonrs areſucceſsful ; if
things miſcarry, we impute no Folly nor Omiſ-
ſion to our ſelves, we have done all that was fit
for us to do, but it pleaſed Divine Wiſdom to
diſappoint us. Beſides, the frequent Approach
of the Divine Majeſty puts a Gravity upon a
Man's Countenance, checks and keeps down al]
Exorbitancy of Paſſions, begets an ingenuous
Modeſty, and makes Men as well aſhamed as
afraid to do an unworthy Action. |

Fo all which add, That by the Advantage
of our Prayers we are enabled to become a-pub-
lick Bleſſing, and every private Man a Benefa-
ctor to the whole World ; than which thing,
what can be either greater in it ſelf, or more
acceptable to a great and generous Mind ? Con-
ſequently, what can a brave and publick-ſpi-
rited Man employ his Time in with more de-
lighr, than in that which ( whatſoever his For-
tunes and external Condition be) wilt make
him a Bleſſing, not only to his Friends andq

Neighbourhood, but tothe Country and "__
e

IT a yo, ” 7 Arr aren,

Part I. Conference. 37

he lives in; that even Kings and Princes are
really beholden to him? Nor is it neceſſary
that much Time be taken up herein, to ſerve all
theſc great Ends ; nor much leſs is it my Inten-
tion to commend affeftedly long Prayers: A
little Time, and a great deal of Heartineſs beſt
doth the Buſineſs of Religion; and that little
ſo employed, will make all the reſt paſs away
the more ſweetly and comfortably.

And then for Reading and Meditating upon

the Holy Scripture, the Pſalmiſt hath told us,

that the good and blefled Man's delight 3s in the
Law of God, and that therein be meditates day and
bt : And ſurely any Man may be able to en-
tertain a few Moments in it. If Curioſity ſway
with us, there are as admirable things in the
Holy Scriptures as the Mind of Man can defire :
If we afte&t Hiſtory, we have there the ancient-
eſt and moſt faithful Monuments in the World ;

thoſe, without which all Mankind had continued

in their Nonage and Childhood to this day, as
being ſo far from able to give an Account of the
beginning of the World,and Original of Things,
that they could not have looked backward ma-
ny Ages, but they wauld have been utterly be-

. wildered in Miſts and Fables as abſurd as the

wildeſt Fiftions of Poets. Beſides, withaut this
Record, all the wonderful Methods of Divine
Providence ( which are the Aſſurance and Com-
fort of the preſent Age, and the Obiigation to
Vertue, and Foundation of Picty and Religion)
had been buried in Oblivion.

If we ſeek after Knowledpe, either Natural,
Moral, or Prudential, where is there ſuch ano-
ther Treaſury of it to be found as this, where we
have not only the Relations and Obleryations

52 D 3 Q

..

38 A Winter- Evening Part I.

of the wiſeſt Men in all Ages paſt, but the diſ-
coveries of the Divine Majeſty, the depths of
infinite Wiſdom ( that know the true reaſon of
things) laid open.

If we arepleaſed with the foreknowledge of
things to come, (as what Man of Soul can chuſe
but deſire to ſee beyond the Curtain) then all
the Preſages, Prognoſticks and Divinations, all
the moſt rational InduQtions of the wiſeſt Men,
are but ſilly ſurmiſes and idle dreams to the Pre-
dictions of the Holy Prophets, which give us
light to the World's end, and a view of another
World ; and have botkf #fluxed their own cre-
dit, and warranted our belief of what is yet to
come, by the well-known accompliſhment of
their former PrediCtions.

If we would improve our ſelves in Vertue,
what ſurer Rule can we have than the expreſs
Declarations of God himſelf ? Who can pre-
{cribe to him what ſhall pleaſe him, or preſcribe
to us better than he that made us, and knows
what is fit for us todo? And what more ful],
plain, compendious and higher Inſtitution of
Religion can there be than the Holy Scripture ?

This brings God near to us, and us near to
-him ; here you know his mind, you ſee his na-
ture, and hear him ſpeak ; here you may ſtand,
aS it were upon an /fhmu or Promontory, and
take a view of both Worlds; this is the Light
of our Eyes, the Rule of our Faith, the Law of
our Conſcience, and the Foundation of all our
Hopes. All this together, ſure, cannot chuſe
-but make the reading of the Scripture become
a very ſerious, and yet a very delightful Em-
ployment. And now, upon the whole matter,
what think you, dear Phil. May not a Gentle-

We | man

SY UP PEE" 573

F _——— .

a

-

.
bl
4s
;
'
pn

= l R

Part I, Conference, 39

man entertain himſelf, and his time, without
the relief of Drinking and Gaming ?

Phil. What think I, ſay you? Why, I think
worſe of my ſelf than ever I did. 1 do not
wonder now at what you ſaid when we firſt
came together, viz. That you could always
find employment for your Time; but I won-
der at my own folly : for I plainly ſee now,
that no Man can have Time to be a burthen
upon him that hath come honeſtly by it; I
mean, that hath not ſtollen ir from nobler En-
tertainments, to beſtow it upon a Debauch.

Sebaſt. Bur yet this is not all neither. I per-
ceive I have ſatisfied you, both of the pleaſant-
neſs of ſome lighter, but innocent Exerciſes,
which I named in the firſt place; and alſo of
the great importance of Prayer, and Reading
the Scripture, which I laſt ſpoke of : Yet, as
on the one hand, I wou!d not have a Man em-
ploy all his vacant hours on the former ; ſo
neither, on the other hand, do I think he is
bound to exhauſt them wholly upon the latter.
No, Phil. our Bodies are compounded of va-
rious humours, our Souls conſiſt of ſeveral fa-
culties; God is a good and benign Being, and
conſults the good and comfort of all the Powers
he hath created. Beſides all
the fore-mentioned, therefore, 9f Stu = =_
(and thoſe which I have ſup- _ 6 -
poſed, without naming them 1zgreutries of ir.
particularly ) there is a way
of entertaining our ſelves, called Study and Me-
ditation. Study, I ſay, in general ; not con-
fined to any Subject, but only direfted to the
general end of improving our ſelves, and the
time God hath given us in the World.

D 4 For

40 A Wintey-Evening Part I,

For why ſhould we abject. our ſelves that have
rational Souls, an active, vigorous, intellectual
Spirit in us ? Is not this able to employ it ſelf,cur
Time,and our bodily Spiritstoo?Is not our Mind
large enough to embrace the whole World? Can
we not bring upon the Theatre of our Imagina-
tion all the Occurrences of Time paſt, as well as
preſent? Muſt we needs only pore upon the things
juſt before opr Eyes ? Muſt our Underſtandings
lie fallow and barren, unleſs they be continual-
ly ſtirred up by our Senſes ? Are our Souls on-
ly given us for Salt to keep the Body ſweet, or
ſervilely to cater for our inferior Powers ; and
not rather to ſubdye and govern them ?

Why ſhould not we remember we are Men,
and improve our beſt Talent, ſharpen the Senſe
of our Minds, and enlarge and greaten our Spi-
rits? What hinders but that a Man may converſe
with himſelf, and never have better Company
than when he i is moſt ſolitary ? How can a Man
want Company, that hath an Angelica] Nature
within bim ; or necd Diverſion, that hath the
whole World before him to contemplate ?

What ſhould diſcourage or hinder Men from
this Courſe ? Is it the pains and difficulty ? No-
thing inthe World is pleaſanter when a Man is
once uſed to it. 1s it for fear we ſhould exhauſt

our ſelves, and, like the Spider, ſpin out our own
Bowels inour Web ? There can be no danger of
that, an immortal Soul never wears out; and if
the Body goes by the worſt, ſo long as the Spirit
3s bcttered, there is no loſsin all this. ' Or ſay it
ſhould be to no great fruit that we apply our
ſelves to Study, yet, at leaſt, this is gotten by ir,
_T hat we employ our Time, and keep our ſelves
out of Harms ; which is as inuch aS WE now
ſeek for, . 5 Foul,

CC IE IT TIIS. OY SEINT. 2 HT

Part I. Conference. 4t

Phil. Itis generally the Fault of eloquent and
contemplative Men to out-ſhoot the Mark they
aim at; and, whilſt they talk finely, to deliver
very unpratticable thingz. Pardon me, dear Se-
baſtian, if I ſuppoſe this Infirmity hath accom-
panied thoſe great Accompliſhments in you ar
this time. No doubt but Meditation is a noble
Entertainment of Time ; and queſtionleſs, he
that hath once got the knack of it, nothing in
the World is ſo pleaſant to him: But you muſt
conſider, there are very few who have ſo much
Command over themſelves, as to hold their
Minds long ſteady and intent, and perhaps fewer
that have ſufficient Knowledge to employ their
Thoughts at home ; it requires a great Stock for
a Man to be able to ſet up this Trade by himſelf.
Beſides, many Men's Spleens are ſo near their
Heads, and there is ſo great Afffinity between
the Animal Spirits and Yapours, that he that
goes to exerciſe the one, ſtirs up the other ; and
oftentimes, the greater the Intention of Mind is
with which a Man ſets himſelf to think, the
greater Cloud is raiſed, and the more impoſſible
it will prove for ſuch a Man to diſcern any thing
clearly. Your Advice therefore is very good
for them that can receive it ; bur this is no C 4-
tholicon, no general Receipt.

Sebaſt. 1 thank you, Sir, moſt heartily for
the modeſt and ſeaſonable Check you gave tothe
Career of my Diſcourſe : I muſt confeſs, upon
{ſecond Thoughts, that all Men are not fit for Me-
ditation, and therefore it cannot be their Duty ;
yet | muſt tell you withal, I ſuſpe& more are un-
willing, than uncapable , and I doubt ſome are
more afraid of awakening their Conſcience,than
{tirriog their Spleen þy it. - Fiowever, | have

EE: another

42 A Winter- Evening Part I.

another Expedient to propound, ( for the pur-
poſe we are upon ) which will ſupply the place
of the former, and which, I am ſure, can be
| liable to no ObjeCtion ; and
Of Fr ——_ that is, Conference or Diſ-
denefte of is. &*#* courſe: Which when I have
recommended to you, I ſhall

have delivered my whole mind. -

God Almighty hath given us Speech to ex-
preſs our ſelves to one another. We are not
left alone in the World ſo, but that every Man
. hath ſome Friend or Neighbour to hold corre-
{pondence with : Why ſhould we not then en-
tertain our ſelves, our friends, and our time in
friendly Communication, without the help of
the Bottle ? &c. This requires no great in-
tention of Mind, no great Stock is required in
this Caſe; this will ſtir up no Vaporrs from
our Spleen ; and by this way we may not on-
ly divert our ſelves, but elucidate our own
thoughts, erlarge our experience, reſolve one
another's difficulties, and mutually pleaſe and
profit one another.

And the more effeftually to recommend this
Expedient to you, I will firſt take the confidence
to affirm, and do not doubt but I ſhall by and
by make it evidently appear, That this 1s not
only a very gentile and creditable way of con-
verſation, but alſo ( if it be rightly prattiſed )
a moſt pleaſant and delightful, and (which per-
haps may ſeem the greateſt Paradox of all ) one
of the moſt healthful Exerciſes in the World.

The firſt of theſe you will eaſily grant me,
when you conſider that Diſcourſe is that which
principally diſtinguiſhes a wiſe Man from a

Fool. For, what <clſe do we take our _—
0

Part [. Conference. 43

of one another by ? If a Man diſcourſe of
weighty Matters, and keep cloſe to the Point
and ſpeak ſharply in the Caſe, we account him
a worthy Man. But contrariwiſe, if he talk
flatly, inſipidly and impertinently, we have no
eſteem or reverence for ſuch a Perſon, let his
outward appearance and circumſtances be o-
therwile what they will.

It is certain we cannot know a Man's thoughts,
or the ſence of his mind, till he expreſles them :
A Fool, we fay, is a wiſe Man ſo long as he holds
his peace, and a wiſe Man differs nothing from
a Fool till he ſpeaks. For a Man's Attions may
be by rote or cuſtom, or the direction of ſome
other Perſon , but a Man's Diſcourſe is his own.
Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth ſpeak-
eth, {aid our Saviour. The tongue will betray
not only the Inclinations and Paſlions of the
heart, but the very ſenſe and capacity of the
mind ; and the latter much more than the for-
mer, ( as the Liquor will carry the tinCture of
the Veſlel.) ?Tis poſlible, indeed, for an evil and
vicious Man to talk vertuouſly, and a filly Man
may get into a road of wiſe Sayings ; but the
Leſſon he hath conn'd will ſoon be at an end, and
then he will no more be able to hold out at that
rate,than a flaw*d Veſlel to make the ſame ſound
with a good one. Wiſdom and Folly are wide-
ly difterent in their natures ; but it is Diſcourſe
that lays them open, and makes the diſtintion
conſpicuous: Why then ſhould not a Man, by
practice, endeavour to become expert at that
which, if he be Maſter of, will be his Glory,
but to be ſure will make his CharaQer.

But now for the vulgar Methods of Conver-
ſation, which commonly conſiſts of _—

an

44 A Winter-Evening Part I.

Drinking and Ga- and Gaming, they are no bet-
ning are Leveling tex than Levelling Practices,
Prathices. that obſerve no Diſtance, nor
make any DiſtinCtion amongſt Men ; the Maſter
and Servant are at Hail Fellow, the Gentleman
and the Clown are upon the Square with one
another, the Man of Parts and Learning and
the verieſt Ideot and Coxcomb are upon even
Ground in thoſe Entertainments.

As for Drinking, I cannot ſufficiently won-
der at that AbjeCtion of Mind in Perſons of
Quality, who, as if they conſented to their
own Degradation, will contend for Victory
with their Inferiors at equal Glaſles ; whe it is
notorious, that a Porter ſhall bear more than a
Gentleman ; and a fine Wit ſhall be baffled and
diſordered with that which a thick-skulPd dull
Sot will carry away well enough, and come off
as wiſe a Man as he entred. But ſuppoſe the
Gentleman ſhould out-do the Clown, and the
Wit the Dunce; yet as the Match was made
very imprudently, ſo the Victory would be jn-
glorious.

And then for Gaming, I have heard of an
Ape that has been too hard for his Maſter at
that moſt ingenious Game of Cheſs. But I
have known one very near to a Natural, that
hath been a great Maſter at it. And certainly
it js very caſie to imagine, that in thoſe other
Games, that are governed by Chance, the Vi-
Cory may fall to the leſs worthy Perſon. It
ſeems therefore a very mean thing to be eager-
ly intent upon that to which a wiſe Man hath
no better Title than a Fool, and, if we believe
the Proverb, much leſs. To be ſure no Man
can be ſo yain as to think himſelf the _ or

etter

Part I. Conference. 45

better Man for his Conqueſt. But now, Diſ-
courſe diſcriminates Men's real Abilities, and
bears an impartial Teſtimony to a Man's
Worth ; and the Conteſts of Reaſon are there-
fore truly honourable, becauſe the wiſer Man is
ſure to have the Victory.

But then Secondly, For the pleaſure and de-
tightfulneſs of Diſcourſe, it cannot be doubted,
but that the Higher Powers in a Man are atten-
ded with the ſweeteſt Delights, in the Exerciſe
of themſelves; and the more ſtrong and vigo-
rous the Conſtitution of thoſe
Powers is, the more quick and ” So of
raviſhing muſt the ſenſe of their * **
peculiar Pleafure conſequently be. This the
Experience of all tndious Men bears teſtimony
toz amongſt whom, one Truth ſifted out by
Reaſon, is more pleaſant than all the Entertain-
ments of an Epicure. For in Diſcourſe there is
a very grateful Reliſh in the mere bandying of
Arguments to and fro ; great Curioſity in di-
ftinguiſhing ; Prettineſs in a handſomly dreſgd
Probability ; Surprize in Paradoxes ingenuouſly
maintained ; admirable Beanty in that ſtrange
variety of Colours in which a good Wit will
repreſent things, far beyond the Hand and Skill
of a Painter : All which, with a Thouſand other
Particulars which I paſs by, render the Pleaſure
of Diſcourſe as much tranſcendent to all Inſtan-
ces of Senſuality, as Reafon it ſelf is above Senſe,
or a Man ſuperior to a Beaſt.

And now, in the laſt place, for that ſeem-
ing Paradox concerning the Wholeſomeneſs of
Diſcourſing : It 1s obſerved, Diſk
that they who are curious 43 ry
of the Health of their Bo- AP

dies

46 AW, inter-Ewening Part T.

dies, to the end that they may invigorate all
their Powers and Faculties, have to that pur-
poſe found out appropriate Exerciſes to all the
principal parts: For ſo, they ſay, Walking is
peculiarly good for Digeſtion, by gently agita-
ting the Stomach and Bowels; Riding is fingu-
larly beneficial to the Head ; playing at Bowls
helps the Reins, and the uſe of the Long-bow
is eſpecially commended for opening the Breaſt
and Lungs, &c. Now [ think 1 may be bold to
ſay, that whatſoever each of theſe is to its re-
ſpeQtive Part and Member, that will ſmart and
vigorous Conference perform to the whole Man.
For, as to the very bodily Powers, it warms the
Heart and Stomach, driesthe Brain, opens the
Lungs, quickens the Motion of the Blood, and
brings a freſh and florid Colour into the Face
and whole Habit. And then, as for the better
part of Man; Diſcourſe raiſes the Fancy, exer-
ciſes the Memory, clears the Thoughts, en-
lightens the Judgment, and improves the Rea-
ſoning of the Mind. To which add, if you
pleaſe, that it diverts Melancholy, puts off Do-
Zing, baniſhes anxious Thoughts and Sollicitude;
and, in a word,. holds a Man fo fully employ-
ed, that it leaves no room for the very Tem-
ptations of the Dey1l.

.And now 4 appeal to you ; judge whether I
have performed my promiſe, or no: If I have,
then, beſides all the afore-mentioned, here is a
Manly Employment of Time always at hand ;
an Exerciſe that every one is capable of that
hath a Tongue in his. Head, and. a Soul in his
Body. Thus we' may treat our. Neighbour,
and coſt us nothing but what we (it ſeems) have

too much of, I mean Time. And thus we may
profit

ts tbe ts a

Part I. Conference. 47

profit our ſelves, and oblige him too beyond
all other Entertainments.

Phil. I have a great reverence for your judg-
ment ; bur, in truth, I cannot tell what to ſay to
this Golipping kind of Diverſion ; and till this
moment, I never thought Lip-labour had been
of ſuch value. Asfor thinking Men, the World
is content to let them enjoy the Reputation of
being wiſe, or atleaſt to ſuſpend their judgment
of them till they ſee the contrary in the unrea-
dineſs of ſuch Men in all the inſtances of gentie
and pleaſant Converſation. But as for talka-
tive Men, (I need not tell you ) they have ever
been accounted troubleſome and impertinent.
And for your own part, good Sebaſtian, give
me leave to ſay, that your praCtice confutes your
Doftrine ; for after all this which, with great
Wir and Eloquence,you have ſpoken in the com-
mendation of diſcurſive Converſation ; and not-
withſtanding that every one who knows you,
knows your ſingular dexterity in managing any
Subject that falls under debate in your compa»
ny; yet you, of all Men, are generally obſerved
to be the moſt ſilent and reſerved. Ir is true,

'At thistime you have been diſpoſed to talk very

freely with me (for which I am greatly obliged
to you; ) but at ſeveral other times it is a hard
matter to-pump any thing out of you.

Sebaſt. 1 ſee plainly that there is; a wrong, as
well as a right handle ta eyery thing, and .a
continual proneneſs in Men to miſtake ane
another. Whenſoever any. Vice: 1s, cenſured,
or expoſed, Men preſently think. the contrary
Extream to that Prattice muſt needs be the
Vertue : So whilſt I have been recommending
ingenuous and friendly Conference, you mw

ent

48 AW, inter-Evening Part I.

ſent me as if I had made it my Deſign to plead
for impertinent Talkativeneſs ; which, truly, I
am ſo far from, that I think. the World doth
that ſort of Men no Wrong in the Cenſure it
paſſes upon them ; amongſt whom, ( if it be a
wiſe Man's Lot to be caſt ) he will think himſelf
in the Region of Parrots ; and for his Delive-
rance, be tempted to pray for Deafneſs, as a
great Bleſſing. No, Phil. no; I would neither
have Men fay all they'can, nor much leſs talk
whether they can or no: But would have them
firſt think to direCt their ſpeaking, and then
ſpeak, that a Judgment may be made of their
Thoughts : I would that Men ſhould bend their
Minds whenever they relax their Tongues, and
try the Strength of one another's Heads in Rea-
ſoning,; rather than in Drinking. |
But then, as for what your ſelf or others
have obſerved of my Carriage in Company, I
confeſs the Obſervation is rightly taken, and I
will ingenuouſly aflign you the Occaſions of it ;
: - ' which are (as far as I know
£ Ras 4 ſelf ) ſuch as theſe : __
. Hirſt place, it ſometimes falls
prrnmca; egg ' out, that the Subject which o- -
| ther Men are diſcourſing of, is
not very agreeable to my Mind; as in theſe un-
quiet Times, the common Theme is News;
which, as it is uſually managed, is frequently at-
rended with-Pragmaticalneſs,and Cen(ſure of the
Governmentt-under which we live ; or; at laſt,
the Effect of it is, the filling one another with
Fears and [ealouſies, and the trormenting a Man's
felf before the time, with his own or other
Men's Dreams and Suſpicions. Now in this Caſe
Fam generally ſilent; at leaſt, vill I can find a fit
wry tranſition

Part I. Conference. 49
tranſition, and have the good luck to turn the
ſtream of Diſcourſe ſome other way.

Again, ſometimes I am in the Company of
thoſe who areevery way my Betters; and there
I think it as much more adviſable fo hear than
to ſpeak, as it is better to reap than to ſow.

Sometimes alſol meet with a Company of de-
ſultorious Wits, who skip ſo haſtily from one
think to another that they over-run me ; and
whilſt 1 am meditating what to ſay pertinently
to the Queſtion in hand, they are gotten into
another Subjelt - A Man muſt ride Poſt, or be
left behind by ſuch Diſcourſers.

But beſides all this, ſometimes a meer melan-
choly humor ſeizes me ; which ſo benumbs me,
that | am for that fit.altogether uſeleſs in So-
ciety. But ler that be as it may, or however my
practice falls ſhort in my counſel, I am certain
my Example is not ſufficient to connterbalance
the Reaſons [| have given. Wherefore let me
again heartily recommend- it to you, nor only
for its own benefit : bit if it were but to ſu-
perſede and lay afide thoſe'other ſoft and filly
diverſions which have of late fo far uſurped
upon humane Soclety, as well nigh wholly to
ingroſs to themſelves all Mens vacant hours;

and a great deal more.

Pall. You have the Aſcendant of me, and
may perſwade me to what you will : But, Good
Sir, do not convert me from a good Fellow to
a prating Fool. If I had been uſed to ſtudy, and
been converſant in Books, as you have, | might
have bzen in a capacity to pleaſe my ſelf, and
perhaps the Company too with Diſcourſe ; but
for want of that Education, ſilence will gene-
rally be my beſt diſcretion.

E Sebaſt.

A Winter. Evening Part I.

Sebaſt. Books, Phil It is neither Books nor
much reading that makes a wiſe Man. How
many ſhrewd Men have you known, and very
well accompliſhed ia moſt parts of Converſa-
on, that neyer had any great matter of Clerk-
ſhip? Ard on the other lide, amongſt the great
number of thoſe that have had all the advanta- :
ges of Bookiſh Education, how few are thofe
that are really the better for it ? With many
Men Reading is nothing better than a dozing
kind of ldlenefs, and the Book is a mere Opiate
that makes them fleep with their eyes apen. ?Tis

Ofite aft able perverted into an Antidote
buje of Books and BARR Chinking wiſely, and
Reatiny. made a creditable pretence for

diſmuſſien of bufknels. Such
Mens ſtudying is eply an artifige to reconclle
theeaſc and voluptuouineſs of floth with the re-
putation of wiſdom ; a gentile and wary kind of
Epicuriſm, that furfeits without pain or ſhame,
and in which Men ſpend their time without pro-
fit to themſelves, or uſefulneſs to the World.

Again, there ares ſoine with whom Bookiſh-
nels is 2 Diſeaſe : For by overmuch Reading
they furchzrge their minds, and ſo digeſt no-
thing. They ſtuff themſelves fo full of other
Mens Notions, that there is no room for their
faculties to diſplay themſelves. Such as theſe
after all their Reading canno more be accounted
learned, than a Beaſt of burden may that carries
a Student's Kooks for him. Only ſo much Meat
is properly gouriſhment to the Body as a Man
Can macerate and digeſt, as he can apply to the
reparation of his Body, when he can ſeparate
the {nperfivities, and be ſtronger and light-
lomer aſter it ; more than this breeds i] humors,
obſtructs

Part I. Conference, $1

obſtruQts the paſlages, and impairs the ſtate of
health inſtead of advancing it; and fo much
Study only is profitable as wil} excite a Man's
thoughts, as will afford hints or fallies to the
mind, or as will farniſh him with matter for
Meditation and Diſcourſe ; which two laſt
things are the two great inſtruments of impro-
ving our ſelves, and therefore are to preſcribe
the meaſures of our ſtudy and reading.
Wherefore it was well ſaid by a Great Man
of our Countrey, That Reading indeed might
make a full and copious Man, but Meditation
made a profound Man, and Diſcourſe a clear,
diſtinct and uſeful Man. For Reading at moſt
doth but make a Man's mind equal to that of the
Author he reads; but Meditation fers him upon
the ſhoulders of his Author, by which means he
ſees farther than he did or could do. Or where-
as the one may fill up all the preſent capacity of
a Man's mind, the other, viz. Meditation, ſtret-
ches and enlarges thoſe capacities. And then
for Diſcourſe (which is that we are now ſpeak-
ing of ) belides the advantages which it hath in
common with Meditation, it opens and unfolds
a Man's thoughts, and fo brings his Notions to a
Teft, and makes proof of the folidity or weak-
neſs of his Conceptions: By which means,
as on the one hand he ſhall not run away with
the ſhadows of things inſtead »f the ſubſtance z
ſo on the other hand, when his apprehenſions
are ſifted, and approved to be right and ſound,
his mind will be confirmed againſt wavering,
and he will become conſtant and conſiſtent with
himſclf, I have ofcenobſerved, with equal plea-
fure and wonder, that by the mere propound-

ing a difficulty to another, I have preſently been
E 2 able

\.

&2 A Winter-Evening Part I.

ableto reſolve that which was too hard for me,
whilſt I revolved it only in my own Breaſt. For
by that opening and unfolding of our thoughts,
we let in light to our own judgments, and ſee
clearer than we did before.

Beſides, a Man 1s too apt to have a partial
fondeſs to the iſſue of his own brain ; but when
he hath brought his conceptions to the imparti-
al Touch ſhone of other Mens judgments, and
as it were tried them by the light, he will nei-
ther bz apt to be upon all occaſions over-confi-
dent, peremptory and dogmatical ; ( as yon
may obſerve many reſerved ſtuJjous Men to be,
who when once they give vent to their thoughts,
labour under a kind of incontinency of mind,
and will be continually dictating and aſlerting
at all adventures ) nor on the other ſide will he
ſtumble at every rub, aud ſtagger at every ob-
jeCtion, and fo give up the beſt Cauſe upon the
ſlighteſt ( but unforeſeen ) Attack.

And there is one thing more very conſidera-
ble in this matter ; namely that by Conference
a Man is accuſtomed to methodize and digeſt
his thoughtsin order ; by which means his No-
tions are not only rendred more beautiful, but
are more at hand, and alſo more perſpicuous
and fitter for uſe. Whereas contrariwiſe ( let
a Man have read never ſo much, and meditated
too into the bargain) without this expedient all
his Notions will lie very odly and confuſedly,
and come out all in a heap or huddle. In ſum,
He thar uſes himſelf only to Books, is fit for
nothing but for a Book ; and he that converſes
with no body, is fit to converſe with no body.

Phil. 1n truth, Sebaſtian, though I am very
ſenſible of my own detects in Point of Learning ;
yet

Part I. Conference. 53

yet in that little experience which I have had
inthe World, I have ſeen ſo many inſtances of
the ill uſe, or rether no uſe that ſome Men have
made of it, that I am not only convinced there
is ſome truth in what you ſay, but am the bet-
ter inclined to be content with my own educati-
on. I have known ſome mighty Bookiſh Men
like full Veſſels without vent, as if they were
troubled with the Gripes ; their Notions fer-
ment in them, but they cannot utter them ej-
ther to their own eaſe, or the profit of others.
And again, ſome Mens learning hath ſerved on-
ly to make them pedantick and troubleſome, to
make a noiſe with words and terms of Art, eve-
ry whit as offenſive as the clatter of the Table-
men, which you laugh'd atevennow. Notwith-
ſtanding, by your favour, it cannot be doubted
but Learning hath mighty advantages ; and I
verily think you ſhould ſpeak againſt your own
Conſcience, if you condemned it in the general :
Wherefore you muſt excuſe me if I continue of
the opinion, that it is next to impoſſible, with-
out more of it than I can pretend to, to hold
ſuch Converſation as you are putting me upon.
Sebaſt. Excuſe me, Dear Phil. | do not in
the leaſt put any ſlight upon Learning, or the
means of it, Books and Study ; I know well it
is ofadmirableuſe ina wiſe Man's hand, becauſe
it gradually and inſenfibly opens Mens minds,
and both gives them a quicker ſight, and aftords
them a larger proſpect. And even on the moſt
ordinary-parted Men it hath at leaſt this effect,
tocalm the Spirits,and to ſweeten their temper,
by ſubduing the fierceneſs and ferity of Mens
Conſtitutions. And therefore I heartily wiſh,
that no Gentleman (eſpecially) were permitted
E 3 to

54 A Iv. inter-Evening Part I.

to attain his State and Fortunes without this
qualifhcation, So that all I was ſaying was on-
ly this, that you nor any Man of your capacity
ought to diſcourage your ſelves upon the pre-
tence of your leſſer advantages that way ; for-
aſmuch as a wiſe and a good Man may ( though
perhaps not with the ſame eaſe) with a very
little of it maintain an ingenuous and profita-
ble Converſation.

Phil. Perhaps it may be ſo as you ſay : But
then certainly 2 Man muſt have very extraordi-
nary natural abilities to ſupply thatdefeCt.

Sebaſt. No, Phil. that needs not neither ;

for Diſcourſe will both ſupply

Co the want of acquircd abilities,
Fn Bobs ang and alſoimprovethenatural. I
Study. ſuppoſe you remember theSay-

ing of Solomon, As tron ſharpen.
eth iron, ſo doth the countenance of a man his
friend, I confeſs I have heard that Paſlage of
the wife Man applicd to the viſiting and com-
forting a Friend in Adverſity, which certainly
doth mightily. buoy up and ſupport a Man's Spi-
rits when he finds that he is not altogether for-
faken of his Friend, but owned by him in the
loweſt ebb of his Fortunes. + But I think it is e-
very whit as true and applicable to that we are
ſpeaking of, as if he had ſaid, that the Company
and Converſation of a Friend doth as well quick-
ena Man's wits, and 1 Improve his underſtanding,
as one [ron Inſtrument is ſharpned by another.
For, asI ſaid before, Conference and Diſcourſe
Sive us the advantage of whatſoever he ( we
converſe with ) hath read or thought vpon that
Sabject, and ſo we reap the benefit of his read-
ing, and of his __ too. And "* o
| es

Part I. Conference. 58

ſides that, we exerciſe our own judpment upon
the matter ſo digeſted and prepared for us ; the
very preſence and attention of our Friend ſhar-
pens the attention of our minds ; his Queſtion
prevents our extravagancy and wandring, and
keeps us in a method, and his expeQtation from
vs holds our thoughts cloſe and ſteady to the
Point in Debate, By all which not only the
Stock of our Knowledge is improved, but the
Patrimony alſo ; I mean the very powers of the
Soul. In confideration of all which that Great
Man of our Conntrey, whom I cited bat now,
doth not ſtick to pronounce, That if it ſhould
be a Man's hard Fortune to have no body to
converſe withal, it were better he ſhould tatk
to a Poſt than not open his month at all.

Phil. There you nick it, Sebaſtian ; by that
laſt word ( whoever was the Author of it Y k
perceive a wiſe Man may make fome aſe of ſack
a Tool as | am, if it be bat to refle and echo
back his own Thoughts upon himfelf. Bur ift
earneſt, Sir, now that you have encouraz'd me;
I begin to think ſomething better of my ſif;
and am reſolved to try what may be doit in
the way you recommend. But what wou!d yen
have a Man diſcourſe about? 1 am afraid, if
there be not ſome care in the Choice of a Sab-
ject, all will degenerate into Gofliping and im-
pertinent Chat.

Sebaſt. T here is no need of folicitude in that
Particular, for aſmuch as any, even the moft ob-
vious and occaf:onal Snbject, will cnabte us to
attain the end we aim at, provide@ it be fot-
lowed home; I mean, talk of what matter you
will, if fo be you do not talk flatly and careleſly
about it, but fer your thoughts on work and

E 4 they

66 A Winter-Evening Part I.

they will bring forth both pleaſure and profit.
For the more exerciſe of our minds improves
them as well as that of the body doth the ſtate
of bodily health 3 and whilſt our thoughts are
intent, though we are not ſenfible how time
flips away, yet we ſhall be ſenſible in the con-
cluſion that we have not quite loſt it.

Beſides, yon have obſerved Muſicians to make
the moſt curions deſcant upon the plainelt
ground, and have ſeen ſeveral of the /ndian Ma-
nufactures, where the moſt exquiſite Art hath
been beſtowed upon the meaneſt Materials :
*Tis not therefore the Theme, but the proſecu-
tion of it that is conſiderable ; for, asI ſaid, Let
that be what you will, if you purſbe it with a
train of Thoughts, and ef pecially if you be Vi-
_ to take notice of, and apprehend thoſe

ints that will thence be occaſionally ſtarted,
you ſhall quickly be amazed to find your ſelf
led before you were aware into ſcme ſpacions
and beautiful Field of Contemplation, where-
— you may at once both loſe and refreſh your
elf.
_ Notwithſtanding,l acknowledge to you that
the pitching upon ſome good and uſeful ſubject
at firſt is both the ſhorteſt and the ſureſt way to
attain our end. For the very importance and
concern of a weighty affair naturally rouzes up
our minds, and colleCs and fixes our looſe and
ſcattered thoughts ; as you ſhall ſeldom ſee any
Man drouzie and inattentive whilſt a matter of
conſequence to his Life, or Credit, or Fortune
is in agitation.
' Therefore that having thus prepared you to
it, I may now ſpeak a great truth to you, and
That you may efiectually ſhake off all the foole-
ries

Part I. Conference. 57

ries in faſhion, and make converſation profi-
table. And if indeed you would awaken your
Senſes, and improve your ſelf and your time to-
gether, let me above all things in the World
commend to you Religious Communication,
talk of the Concerns cf a Saul, and of another
World. This is a Subject of Dil
that weight and moment, that ,,,; _— one
it cannot fail either to make yecommended.
you intent, or the Company
you ſhall be in grave and ſerious ;; and it is
withal ſo vaſt and large, that you can never fear
to be run on ground ; for it will always afford
you freſh matter of Diſcourſe.

+ Phil. *Tis true, the Subject is copious enough,
and I may be ſure to have it all ro my ſelf, be-
cauſe no body will talk with me about it. Wha
is there now-a-days that troubles his Head with
Religion, or eſpecially makes it any part of Con-
verſation ? If perhaps any mentjon of it fall in
by the bye, it is preſently ler fall again, as if it
were too hot for mens Fingers, and at moſt it
is made byt a kind of Parentheſis, which may
be kept in, or left out of the Diſcourſe without
interruption of the Senſe. You have found me
out a Subjz2&t indeed, but now you mult ſeek me
out Company too to treat upon it. For as the
World now 1s, this will ſeem ſo irkſom a buſi-
neſs, that no time will be ſo tedious as that
which is ſpent upon it, and ſo we have loſt the
whole deſign we were levelling at.

Sebaſt. Who (ſay you) will diſcourſe of Re.
ligion? Why, every body ſure that thinks of
it, for it is a matter that comes ſo home and
cloſe to every Man, that he muſt be a ſtark
Sot, and deſtitute of the common ſenſe and
LI | dilcretion

58 AW, inter- Evening Part T.

diſcretion of a Man, that is not mightily afie-
Ged with it.

For,tell me,is there any Man ſo abſurdly vain
as to think he ſhall not dic ? Can any Man thar
obſcrves the frail contexture of his Body, ard
the innumerable accidents he is ſubjeCt to, think
himſelf immortal ? or can he overlook the com-
mon condition of Mankind, and when he ſees
Men daily drop away ard die in their full
ſtrength, and in ſpight of all helps and advan-
tages of preſervation ; yet be ſo fond as to ima-
gine he thall eſcape the common lot ? And ſee-
ing what happens to another Man to day, may
befal himſelf to morrow ; or however, he ts
certain that he cannot be of any long continu-
ance in this World ; who, I ſay, that is ſenſible
of this, can chuſe but pry beyond the Curtain,
and bethink himfelf what ſhall come after ?

Is it not the very temper and conſtitution of
our minds to be inquiſitive of the future? Is it
nota great part of our Prerogativeabove Beaſts,
that whereas they are wholly taken np with
what”s prefent to them, and neither mind what
is paſt nor to come; we by the largeneſs of our
Souls embrace both, and do we not worthily
count him an Idiot, that is fo ſhort-ſighted as
not to ſee beyond his Nofe end ?

Doth not every wiſe Man provide for what
may be ? and do not even the
moſt cold and incredulous fut-
pect at leaſt there may ſome-
thing concern us after the preſent life? and is
there any Man that can, if he would never fo
fain, quite rid his thoughts of it ? Sure there-
fore every Man that thinks he ſhal} die ( that is,
every Man that lives ) thinks ſomething of Re-
ligion,

The Importance
of Religion.

Part I. Conference. 59

ligion, if it be but for fear of the Worſt. Per-
haps you will ſay, there are ſome Men, who
though they know they ſhall die, yet think they
ſhall die as the Bealts die, and have no concern
hereafter - But are they worthy to be account-
ed Men that can fanſie ſuch a thing ? A Beaſt
indeed hath life, and ſenſe, and motion, and
participates of ſome kind of fancy and memo-
ry; but doth it underſtand a Diſcourſe, or
weigh an Argument ? Is it able to inferr ſrom
Premiſes, to remember things gone and paſt,
and recal] them to mind at pleaſure? Can ir
compare things together, gather the reſult, di-
ſtinguiſh or paſsa judgment upon Appearances?
Will any Man be fo ridiculous as to ſay, Beaſts
are conſcientious too, that they refleft upon
their own Actions, and accuſe and excuſe them-
ſelves according]y ? or have they free will to de-
termine their Eleftions which way they pleaſe,
even againſt the intereſt of their ſenſes? Now
he that conſiders all theſe vaſt differences will, if
he have the Reaſon of a Man, conclude it very
improbable, that a Creature of this admirable
make ſhould be only deſigned to be a Pageant
for a day, and be totally diſſolved at the date
of this ſhort Life ; eſpecially if he conſider with-
al, that theſe powers and capacities, which we
have ſhewn Man to be endued with,do not only
pot him upon the thoughts, and expectations,
and deſires of anather ſtate; but render him
marvellouſly fit for it, and capable of it ; inſo-
much that ſeveral of the nobleſt of theſe endow-
ments are wholly in vain, if there be no ſuch
thing, and that a Man died as the Beaſts do.
Beſides all this, doth not every Man that hath
Eyes in his Head to obſerve the admirable _
| | ure

60 A Winter-Evening Part.

ture of the World, conclude that it muſt be the
Workmanſhip of a God, and hea great, a wile,
2 good and a juſt Being ; and can he think ſo,
and not reſolve there muſt be a great neceſſity of,
and reality in Religion ? that is, in thereverend
obſervance of that Great Majeſty that deſerves
it, and who hath both made us capable of per-
forming it to him, and obliged us thereunto.

Now if all, or but any part of this be true,
who is ſo mad, as to have no concern for this
God, Religion, and another World ? and who
is there that having any concern for them, can
chuſe but think fir to make it ſome part of his
buſineſs, the employment of ſome part of his
time, and the Subjet of his moſt ſerious de-
bates * Hath any Man a moſt important Cauſe
ſub Judice, and his Trial drawing on, and doth
he never think of it, or diſcourſe his Caſe with
his Friends? Hath any Man a great Eſtate in a
Foreign-Countrey, or a huge Patrimony in re-
verſion, and never ſpeaks of it ? Hath any Man
either a conſiderable Friend or a formidable
Enemy, and never expreſſes himſelf concern-
ing the one or the other ? Surely therefore ſee-
ing Religion imports all theſe Concernments, a
Man may find thoſe that will diſcourſe with
him on the Point.

Phil. 1 readily conſent to you, that the buſi-
neſs of Religion is a moſt ſerious Affair, and
worthy of the greateſt conſideration z but be-
ſides ( as I have ſaid) there are very few will
correſpond with a Man in diſcourſe about it ;
To tell you truly, I am ſomewhat of opinion,
that it is not fit for that kind of treatment.
Asit is a ſacred, ſo it is a ſecret thing, tranſ-
ated only between Sod and Man's own Con-

; ſcience,

Part I. Conference. Gt

ſcience, and therefore is rather the Theme of
a Man's thoughts, the ſolitary employment of
his own heart, and ſo fit to be kept up in the
Cloſet of his breaſt, and not ſo proper matter
for Diſcourſe,

Sebaſt. And I as readily yield to you, dear
Phil. that the Soul and Spirit of Religion is ve-
ry retired and inward, and ſo inacceſſible to
other Men, that they can neither ſee it, nor
judge of it. But though the
firſt ſource and ſprings of it
lie very deep, yet why the
ſtreams of it ſhould not iſſue forth, both in
words and aCtions,l cannot comprehend. 1 have
read of a ſort of Men about the Apoſtolick times,
called Gnoſticks, who gave out that it was ſuf-
ficient to retain an inward belief, and a right
ſenſe of Chriſtian Religion in their minds and
heart*, although they neither made profeſſion
of the Faith with their mouths, nor praiſed
the Laws of it in their Lives and Converſations.
This I look npon as an hypocritical Artifice of
theirs, to the end that they might make a ſa-
ving bargain of Chriſtianity ; a device to ſleep
in a whole skin, and neither run any hazards,
nor put themſelves to any difficulties for Con-
ſcience ſake ; and if they got nothing by Chriſt
Jeſus, they thought they would be ſure to loſe
nothing by him. But as [| am very confident a
Man of your ſincerity can harbour none of their
deſigns, ſo I aſſure my ſelf what you have ſaid
is not upon their Principles: Yet I muſt tell you,
when the Apoſtle levelPd a blow at them, he
reached your fancy alſo; for he ſaith exprelly,
With the heart man behieveth unto righteouſneſs, and
with the mouth confeſſion u made to ſaluation,

Phil.

Religion reſts nat in
the mind only.

62 A Winter- Exening Part L

Phil. O pardon me, Sir ; I make noQueſtion,
but that when a Man is called to make profeſſion
of his Faith, and to diſcover what Religion he
is of, then to diſſemble is to betray it, and to
bz ſilent on ſuch a critical occaſion is to revolt
and apoſtatize from it ; and in that ſence (1
take it } another Apoſtle hath required us, Zo
_ to every man that adketh s a reaſon of _

hope that is in ws, &c. As if he had ſaid,
not aſhamed of your Perſuaſion, but own _
defend your Religion, at the greateſt and moſt

adverſe Tribunals where-ever it ſhall be im-
peached, But this is not the Caſe: We are
not now ſpezking of what muſt be done upon
an authoritative Inquifition into our Conſcien-
ces, Or in times of Perſecution ; but what is to
be done in Times of Peace, and in common
Converſation : And then and there t am ſtill of
Opinzon that, ar leaſt, it is not an expreſs Du-
ty to talk of Religion.

Sebaſt. Nor do | differ from you therein.
For I do not aflert it as an univerſal Duty to
make Religion the matter of our Diſcourſe :
But my meaning is, that it will exceedingly be-
come us to do ſo fometimes. And l verily aſ-
ſure my ſelf, that ae that hath a quick ſence of
God upon his mind, wil have ſavoury expreſ-
kons of him ſometimes upon ordinary occalions,
(if a fooliſh modeſty do not too much over-
come him ) as well as witneſs a good Confel-
fion in times of Perſecution: For, as our $a-
viour faid, ( inthe pzſlage I mentioned before )
Out of the abundence of the heart the mouth ſpeaketh.
And it ſeems to me mare ealily conceivable that
there ſhould be a great fire without any ſmoke,

or 2 great light without any heat, than that
ſuch

Part I. Conference. 63

ſuch a Man as is inwardly principled with the
fear and love of God ſhould be wholly trongue-
tied, or be either able or willing altogether to
ſtifle and ſuppreſs his Sentiments. Can 4 mes
cerry fire in his boſom, ( ſaid the Wiſe Man
and not be burnt? Such an holy fervour as I
ſpeak of will aſluredly both ſeek and find a vent
or it ſelf, and break out, upon all fitting occa-
fions, in reverend and affectionate expreſlions :
By which means a Man, in the firlt place, eaſes
his own breaſt ; and beſides, thus this holy fire
not only preſerves it ſelf from extinCtion, bur
propagates it ſelf alſo, warming and inflaming
others.

You have heard, | ſuppoſe, of an odd Super.
ſtition among the 7ews, who out of a pretend-
ed reverence [0 the Name of God, and to pre.
ſerve it from prophanation, (as they ſuppoſed)
{o long forbad the common pronunciation of
it, till at length, by the intermiſſion of uſing ir,
the had quite forgotten how to pronounce ir.
And thus lam afraid it will fare with Religion,
if Men ſhould (out of I know not what con-
ceit; forbear all Diſcourſe of God and another
World ; the reſult would be, that in time both
would be forgotten. Nor is 9; |
it, (as you ſeem to imagine) Aelginu Di
only times of Perſecution that © CO
ought to rowſe up our Spirits, as of perſecution. *
and call for expreſſions of our
Zeal ;z for the Road of bulineſs, the ſucceſſively
flowing Tide of variety of Entertainments in
this World, the ſoft Charms of pleaſant Re-
creations, the Blandiſhments of continual Pro-
ſperity, and the Ruſt upon our Minds contraCt-
ed by lying {til} in caſe and ſecurity, do more

endanger

64 F A Winter- Evening Part I.

endanger the ſtate of Religion, than thoſe try-
ing times you ſpeak of. And therefore Atheiſm
is well known to be a Weed that thrives moſt
in the beſt Weather. The Seed that was ſown
upon Stony Ground fell away when the hot Sun
fcorched ir, becauſe it had no depth of Earth ;
bur that which was ſown among the Thorns was
choaked too, though the Soil was never ſo good :
In a word, ſtormy Weather in the Church may
tempt Men to be falſe and treacherous, and Re-
negadoes, but l believe it never made an Atheiſt ;
thar and Prophaneneſs are the il] fruit of Pro-
ſperity. So that you ſee there is need that the
Spirit of Picty ſhogid exert it ſelf as well in the
one ſeaſon, as in the other.
| Neither will the pnblickly ſtated times, or
forms and exerciſes of Religion ſufficiently fe-
cure it againſt this danger, withour fuch volun-
tary efforts and fillies of it as we are ſpeaking
of : For in regard God 1s not to be ſeen, and
the WorTd is before us ; the World to come is
at diſtance, and the preſent World at hand ; ill
examples are numerous, and good ones few and
rare: And, in a word, we dwell in fo cold a
Region, that we had need not only to uſe a
. great deal of exerciſe, but frequently to rub up
one another. Therefore as Socrates is ſaid to
have brought down Philoſophy (e Cwlo in urbes )
from ſpeculation to practice, from high notions
to the common affairs of life ; ſo it ſeems neceſ-
fary to us, not only to be religious at Church,
and devout in our Cloſets, but to allow it a
thare in our daily and ordinary converſe.
Phil. Nay, if you be for that, what think yon
of a demure tort of People amongſt us, that, as
if their tongues w:re tip*d with Religion, wilt

©

Patt T. Conference. 6g
be always canting in a Scripture- Of" Hypocritical
phraſe. Theſe Men ſeem to ©4%z.
think it prophane to ſpeak intelligibly, and in
the - common Language ; and account a- Jewiſh: |
kind of Gibberiſh to be the peculiar Shibbolerh of
the Godly Party : And ſome of them arrive- at
ſach a pitch, either of Hypocriſie or Melancho-
Iy, (1 am loth ta prononnce whether ) that (up-
on the matter } they allow no other Diſcourſe to
be lawful, but what hath a TinQure of Religion.
Now, for my part, I look upon theſe People as
very abſurd and ridiculous, and therefore I hope
you do not intend to give them Countenance in
what you are ſaying.

. Sebaſt. So far from it, Phil. that-I accotint the
former of the two ſorts of Men which you ſpeak
of, to be no better than a Generation of nau-
ſeous Phariſees, foraſmuch as nothing betrays
Hypocriſie ſo much as Over-doing ; and by that
Courſe of theirs they render Religion. loathſoms
and ridiculous, and tempt Men fo think it all
Trick and Cheat. And for the other, they ſeem
to be a pitiable, but crack-brain*d ſort of Men,
who render Religion very uncomfortable to
themſelves, and, indeed, impracticable and im-
poſſible. God knows, we are rot Angels, but
Men; and have Concerns for the-preſent World;
as well as for the other.; and conſequently; ir
can be no Fault, but a juſt Duty, to take care of
them ; and, in order thereto, to deliberate; to
take Advice; and to diſcourſe about them,
And this I am ſo confident of, that I verily
believe the Apoſtle, when he forhids. that any cor
rupt Communication ſhould proceed out of our Mouths;
and enjoyns that it be ſuch. as is good, to the uſe of
edifying, intended we ſhould interpret the lat-
F £6r

66 A W inter-Exening Part I.

ter Expreſſion by the former, viz. that inſtead
of rotten and filthy Talk, we ſhould tend fo ear-
neſtly to the contrary, that we might turn the
Stream of Men's Diſcourſe tothat which is ver-
tyuous and profitable. And when he adds, That
it may miniſter Grace to the Hearers, I think he re-
quires that very Thing which I have been re-
commending to you ; namely, that we ſhould
. take all fair Opportunities of bringing Religion
into Plea, and of ſuggeſting good Meditations
to one another. Burt I cap by no means think
he reſtrains all Communication to that Subject,
provided that which is about other Matters be
Not lewd or fooliſh, but ſavou-
—_——— DI ty and ingenious, uſeful and
» ak pertinent. And this I am the
more confirmed in by another Paſlage of the ſame
Cal iv1s Apoſtle, where he direCts that
8-37! our Speech be ſeaſoned with Grace,
as with Salt, Which, as | underſtand it, imports
as if he ſaid, that our moſt common Converſa-
tion ſhould have ſome Reliſh of our Religion ;
not be wholly religious, no more than our Meat
ihould be all Salt ; but ſeaſoned with it.
Moreover, when our Saviour fore-warns us,
T hat for every idle Word that Men ſhall ſpeak, they
ſhall give an Account at the Day of Judgment, . | can
by no means think his meaning was, that every
Word that hath not immediate relation to Reli-
gion ſhould be accounted idle, and, as ſuch, in-
curr Damnation. Far be ſuch an Interpretation
from the merciful and condeſcending Laws of
our Saviour. If this were ſo, Chriſtianity was
a moſt anxious thing, and the Lives of Men muſt
be perpetually vexed with Scrupuloſity. But I

take it, he intended only to repreſent to us, _
the

Part I. Conference. 67
the Judgoent to come. ſhall be very exa&t and
particular, ſo as to take notice, not only of our
Actions, and the greater Paſlages of our Lives,
but that our very Words alſo ſhall come into .
Eſtimate and Conlideration. _ ..

You ſee therefore I am ſo far from countenan-
cing either-an hypocritical Cant, or a ſuperſti-
tions Melancholy, that I do not think Religion
onght importunely to thruſt it ſelf info Conver-
ſation, to the Excluſion of every thing beſides it
ſelf ; but that it have place in our Debates ; and
where there is Room for Choice, there it is my
Opinion that we give it alſo the Precedence.

Phil. Well, ſo far we are agreed : But, [| pray,
give me leave to go a little farther with you.
What kind of Religious Conference is it you
would beat? Would you have Men enter in-
to Diſputes about Divine Mat-
ters ? This I the _ ub; be. Pl. Bas wm i
cauſe there 1s znother ſort © An etdgs
Men (beſides thoſe we now ſpoke _ —_——
of) who ſeem to be mighty zea- _
lous of Religion z but their Heat breaks out
wholly this way, and they fill the place where-
ever they are with Noile and Clamour, with
Duſt and Smoak: Nothing can be ſaid in their
preſence, but inſtantly a Controverſie is ſtarted,
the Cudgels are taken up, and to it they go:
Scarcely any Body is Orthodox enough for
them; for they ſpin ſo fine a Thread, and have
ſuch Cobweb-Divinity, that the Ieait Bruſh a-
gainſt it is not to be endured : And yet withal;
they are as poſitive and decretal in their Aſſer-
tions, that the Pope himſelf is no Body to them.
One would think . they were. Privy-Counſellors
of Heayen, they define with ſo great Confidencs

F 2 what

68 A Winter-Evening Part I.
what will, and what will not pleaſe God ; and
damn to the Pit of Hell all that come not up
exaCtly to their Definitions and Determinations.
Theſe, I aſſure you, are Men that bear a great
Port in the World, therefore I would fain know
your Opinion of then).

| Sebaſt. Truly, Phil 1 have no Opinion of then
at all : 1 fanſie neither their Faith, nor their Cha-
rity; the one I account to be a great deal too
big, and the other as much too little.

Phil. Agreed again. And now Pl! tell you'
my Thoughts a little more fully on this Point :
I have always Iooked upon this Diſputative Re-
ligiouſneſs, as no better than a new-faſhioned
| Knight-Errantry, which puts Men continually
upon Queſt of Adventures, and makes Monſters
of every Wind-mill that comes in their way.
For theſe Men, iſ there do but happen to be ar
inconſiderate Expreſſion tet fall by any Body,
preſently raiſe ſach' a Tragedy upon it, as if
Faith conſiſted wholly of PunCtilio's, ( or, as if
you ſhould ſay, a Line was made up of Points,)
and that every petty Opinion were of moment
enough to overturn the World. The contrary
whereof I take to be ſo true, that I ſuſpe& whe-
ther that be of any moment in Religion which
admits of Diſpute ; for methinks it is not agree-
able to the Goodneſs of God, to ſuffer any thing
of that univerſal Concern to all Men, to remain
very obſcure and controverſial: I ſhould think
therefore this knotty kind of Timber never fit
for Edification. In plain truth, (if you will
pardon a rude Similitude) I fanſie theſe' great
Maſters of Diſpute. to be like the ordinary Pro-
feſſors of Rat-catching, who commonly draw
, more'Vermine to the place than they _ ;

| 0
\

Part I, Conference, 69

ſo theſe raiſe more Controverſies than they can
gecide, ſtart more Difficulties than they can aſ-
ſail ; and ſo. beget Schiſms, gratifie Pride, ins.
flame Differences, and foment Heart-burnings
amongſt Men, that might otherwile live peace-
ably together here, and, for ought I know, go
to Heaven hereafter, |
* Schaſt; Moſt: ingenioufly ſpoken, dear Phil.
and according to my very Heart, If I thought
E could match your Wir, I would add, That
whenever I ſee a Knot of theſe Diſputants to-
gether, it puts.me in mind of a Story, or Fable,
which you will, of a Company of Apes that
had gotten a Gloe-worm amongſt them, upon.
which they heaped Sticks, and other little com-
buſtible Matter z and laying their Heads toge-
ther, blow with all their Might, as hoping to
make ſome ſtrange Improvement of that little
ſhining Particle : But when they have done. all
they can, are neither able to increaſe the Light,
nor much leſs to warm themſelves by it. So
theſe bufie diſputing Wits, afterall their blu-
ſtering, neither bring any uſeful Truth ty light,
nor warm their own or other Men's Breaſts with
any Spark of true Piety or Charity z but contra-
riwiſe, frequently obſcure: the qne, and extin-
gviſh the other. _ |
[t is nat therefore Diſpyting in Religion that
I would provoke you to ; but the* Improvement
of the indiſputable Rules of it, viz. to make your
ſelf, and thoſe you converſe with, ſenſible of the
Vital Principles and Powers of Chriſtianity ; not
,to chafe one another into a Paſſion,- but to rub
up one another's Sentiments, and mutually to
warm one anothers Hearts with Devotion. By
wiſe and affetionate Applications to beget an
PA F 3 equal

70 A Winter-Evening Part I.

equal Fervour of Spirit. And, in a Word, that
when Friends are met together, they ſhould, like
Flint and Steel, raiſe both Light and 'Heat by
their mutual and amicable Colliftons.
- And why, I pray you, dear'Fhi/. ſhould not
Religion have its Turn in oor -Converfation ?
What Reaſon can be given that pions Men ſhould
not difcourſe as freely and ſavourily of holy
Fhings, as they, or other Men, evncerning com-
mon Affairs? Why ſhould oor leſſer Concerns
for this World, our Secular Buſmeſs, he the on-
ly Subje&t of our Communication ? . Why, when
ſome talk of their Trades; their:Pkeaſures, and
of News, and the like, ſhoutd/not we talk. of
our Callings, as we are Chtiltians, of the In-
tereſts of our Souls, and the Hopes -in another
World? Why niay not we difcourſe of -our
Heavenly Country, whither we are going, as well
as other Men buſie themſelves about Foreign
Countries, which perhaps they never ſaw, nor
ever ſhall be concerned in?
- You your ſelf acknowledge Religion to deſerve
the 'nioft ſertous arid attentive Conſideration of
our Minds z- and upon the fame Account (if you
be confiſtent with your ſelf). you will be induced
to believe'it the moſt worthy and' commendable
Subject of Diſcourſe, as having all thoſe Advan-
tages that can' recommend any Subjeft'to the De-
bate'of ingenious Met) ;. as it'were caſte to make
appear, if t'wetre neceflary;-: ©
Phil. Sir, 1 value your Judgment, but muſt
make. nſe of 'my'own; if therefore it be not too
troubleſome ts yoo, let me intreat you to make
out that more fully to me; andthen, I promiſe
you, I will either comply with the Reaſons you
give, or will ſhew you mine to the —_ p
AT eaſt,

Part TI. Conference. 71

Sebaſt. With all my Heart, Sir: And, to do
it with as much Brevity as may be, I will deſire
you to conſider in the firſt place, whether this
Subjedt, Religion, doth not contain in it the
moſt noble and excellent: Points of Enquiry, and
conſequently, be not the moſt worthy, not only
to take up the Affections, byt to exerciſe the
Wits of Men upon : Such as, for .
inſtance, about the Nature and ,, ry bel phe
Attributes of God ; the Wiſ- {,,c.. * ;
dom of that Providence that
manages and governs the World ; the Nature of
Spirits, and particularly of the Sonl of Man, of
Conſcience, and Freedom: of Will ; of the Na-
ture and Obligation of Laws ; of the Grounds
of Faith, and the Efficacy of it s of the Nature
and Succeſs of Repentance ; of Redemption, and
the Way of Propitiating God to Man ; of the
Judgment to come, the ReſurreCtion of the Bo-
dy, and Eternal Life; with abundance more of
the like nature : Points-all yaſtly great and co-
pious, profound and difficult; yet equally necef-
ſary and diſcoverable ; ſuch as are able to ſtir up
and provoke the greateſt Capacities, and yet in-
vite and encourage the meaneſt. In a Word,
ſuch Things as that there 1s nothing elſe within
the whole Sphere of Knowledge, that etther re-
quires or deſerves ſuch ſerious Debates.

Now how trivial and childiſh a thing were it,
whilſt we have all theſe wiſe and concerning
Matters to treat of, to be taken-up only with
Dogs and Horſes, with Drinks and Sawces, with
Faſhions and News, (as is too commonly the
Praftice? ) |

And if you will pleaſe to conſider well the
aforeſaid Particulars, and eſpecially if you make

F 4 crial

72 A Winter-Ewvening Part I.

trial of the Courſe I am adviſing you, you
TD will find theſe Subjefts to be
Eng every whit as pleaſant and de-
Ha | lightful, as they are neceſlary
| and important. For what can
be imagined able to miniſter more Delight,
than the - lively Repreſentation of another
World, and Eternal Life, when Men mgdeſt-
Iy reaſon together, and endeavour to atteCt one
anothers Hearts with the Certainty and unſpeak-
able Felicity of Living for ever ? Of the raviſh-
ing Contentment of enjoying Everlaſting Friend-
ſhip? Of being out of. the Reach of Fateor
Chance ; out of the Sphere of Mortality, Sick-
neſs and Pain, Care and Vexation ? Of being
exempted from all Weakneſs, Sillineſs, Paſſion,
and Infirmity ? Of being exalted above all Tem-
-Ptation, and ſecured againſt all poſſibility of A-
poſtacy ?- If Diſcourſe of 'this nature doth. not
"affect a Man beyond all other, it muſt be becauſe
either he hath not the Senſe af a Man, or not
the Faith of a Chriſtian. -*
Or ſuppoſe Men ſhould take a Subject ſome-
what lower, . and conferr together about the
Providence of God, that governs the preſent
World : What a beautiful thing is it to obſerve
all the Variety of Second Cauſes to move in a juſt
Order under the Firſt, toward certain and uni-
form Ends, the Glory of God, and Good of Men !
And that though the Divine. Wiſdom may loſe
and confound -us in that admirable Maze it
ſeems -to make, yet there is nothing defedlive
or redundant in the whole World, no-raom
tor Chance, nothing unforeſeen, no croſs Acci-
dent that hinders the Projeftian; the ſame De-
fign is,-All; along. carried -on,} and: at Jaft cer
; ET tainly

Part I. Conference. 73

tainly attained : But eſpecially, if we confine
our Contemplations of Divine Providence to
that more peculiar Object of his, his Church, it
will become yet more viſible, and more comfor-
table; where, if we wiſely conferr Times paſt
with the preſent, and view the whole Proceſy,
we ſhall find, that even Schiſms, Herelies, Per-
ſecutions, and the greateſt Calamities of the
Church, tend to its Advantage in Concluſion:
But, above all, that which comes neareſt to a
Man, and muſt needs affeCt him moſt in the Af-
fair of Providence is, that thereby he finds him-
ſelf under the Proteftion of a mighty Being,
that nothing befals him without the Conſent. of
his Great Patron, that he is not left to himſelf
to ſcuffle with ill Fortune and ſecond Cauſes as
well as he can 3 but he is the Charge of God Al
mighty, the Favourite of Heayen. This, cer-
tainly, is highly pleaſant and fatisfaftory, above
any thing in this World. | |

Or if we go lower yet;-and make the Subject
of our Diſcourſe to be about Peace of Con-
{cience, of the Bravery of 2 Victory over a Man's
Paſhons or Temptations, of the unſpeakable
Comfort and SatisfaCtion'in doing good ; any of
theſe will afford us an Entertainment beyond the
Flavour of Wine, or the odd Variety of Chance
in a Game; and, indeed, (to ſpeak to the Point)
above all other Subjets of Diſcourſe and Con-
verſation. And although it be true that there is
none of theſe, but a Man may contemplate with
great SatisfaCtion by himſelf, alone, and in Soli-
tude ; yet, as all ſocial Exerciſes of the Body are
more refreſhing than thoſe that are ſolitary, ſo
It-1s here ; the Comfort that reſults from theſe
C,ontemplations is doubled and multiplied by
1 IE, | Reflection

74 A Wimer-Evening PartT.

RefleCtion in friendly Conferences. And all this
together ſhall be my firſt Argument by which 1
recommend Diſcourſe of Religion. What think
you of this, Philander ?

Phil. I think very well of it : But, I pray you,
let me hear out the whole Cauſe, and then Þll
give my Anſwer,

Sebaſt. Why, then my ſecond Plea for Reli-
gious Diſcourſe is, from the Conſideration that
it is:far the moſt ſafe, prudent, and inoffenſive
Matter of ke wr and _ in ſeveral

maieh oh \/ Reſpects. In the firſt place, irc
FEcry tf Di kindles no Coals, ſtirs up no
Ihe: "* Strife, inflames no Bady's Cho-
Yoke: ler, and touches upon no Man's
Intereſt or Reputation. You cannot talk of your
ſelf, without Vanity or Envy ; you can hardly
talk of your Neighbours, without ſome ſuſpicious
Refietion ; nor of thoſe that are fartheſt off, but
you are in danger that ſome body preſent may be
concerned for them, as being of their Family or
Acquaintance : It_is very difficult to talk of
News, but you will make your ſelf of ſome
Party or other; and of Opinions, without 'gi-
ving Offence where you did not..zntend it ; and
you can ſcarcely ſpeak of your /Governors and
Superiors, ſo as to avoid all Imputation either of
Flattery or Pragmaticalneſs. But here you may
talk ſecurely, and have this Aſſurance, That if
you profit no Body, you ſhall hurt no Body ; if
you do not benefit others, you ſhall not preju-
dice your ſelf. And then, in the ſecond place,
and in Conſequence of the former ; This kind -
of Diſcourſe will invite no Eves-droppers to
liſten, and carry Tales of what paſſed amongſt

Friends in their Families and Privacies. For,
although

Part I. Conference. 75

although there be hardly any Place ſo inacceſſi-
ble, or any Retirement fo ſacred and inviolable,
as to be aſufficient Sanftuary againſt this peſti-
lent ſort of Vermine; yet, beſides that Matters
of |Religion afford them the leaſt Hold or Han-
dle, the diſcourſing gravely of it is the moſt ef-
feftual Charm in the World to lay them ; 1a
that they ſhall either not be able, or not be wil-
ling to miſ-report you. To which add, in the
third place, That this Courſe is one of the moſt
effeftual and unexceptionable Ways of ridding
our ſelves of the Company of impertinent Peo=

le; which I reckpn no ſmall Advantage of this
ind of Converſation : For this grave and ſe-
rious Way will certainly either make them bet-
ter, or make them weary of our Company ;
that is, we ſhall either gain them, or gain our
Time from them ; the leaſt of which two is very
deſirable. And this is the Effet of my ſecond
Plea for pious Diſcourſe. |

I will trouble you but-with one more, and

that is, from the Genteelneſs of XZ
this Way of Converſation : It is —AHigiou Com-
the moſt humane, civil and ob- May —_
liging Way of treating Men, and
therefore moſt becoming a Gentleman. We ac-
count it fome degree of Rudeneſs to talk French
or Latin, or any other Language, which the
Company in which we are do not underſtand :
For it looks as if we were either jealous of
them, and therefore would not have them
know what we ſay to others; or elſe it is as if
we had a Mind to upbraid their Ignorance, who
cannot correſpond with us in fuch a Tongue.
And, methinks, as it is uſually accounted a piece
of Pedantry, and an Argument of defeCt of ge-

| nerqys

76 A Winter-Evening Part T.

nerous Education, for a Student to quote his
Authors, - to talk in'Scholaſtick -Phraſe, and to
. vent his Metaphyſical Notions in the Company
of Gentlemen; ſo neither 'is it very decorous
and civil on the other ſide, to be talking altoge-
ther in the' peculiar Phraſe of Faulconry and
Hunting in' the Company of a Student: And it
ſavours either" of great DefeCt '('of other Matter
of Diſcourſe ) in our ſelves,” or of great Con-
and -Infolence 'towards thoſe others ſo
__ d: The Law of Civility 'is,' to be. obli-
ging and condeſcending, to give fair Play and
Scope to all we converſe with : Now nothing
doth this like to Religious Diſcourſe, foraſmuch
as this being every Man's Calling. and Concern,
there is no 'Man' but is, or ought to be preſumed
to be, in ſome meaſure, skilful at it.. When we
talk-of that, we talk ſo as we may all talk ; we
parly of that which every Man's Profeſſion and
Intereſt obliges him to conſider, and which eve-
ry Man's Conſcience admoniſhes him-of; and we
ſpeak in the true-univerſal Dialect, which every
Man underſtands.
And this ſhall be my whole Apology at preſent
for Religious Conference : I: could- ſay ſeveral
things more in the Caſe, but I will do like a wa-
ry Advocate, and reſerve them to reply to your
ObjeCtions. . And now, dear Phil. what think
you upon the whole Matter ?

Phil. What ſhould I fay, or what can 1 ſay,
but that a good Cauſe hath happened upon a:
good Advocate; a Cauſe able to make an ordi-
nary Man eloquent, and Eloquence able to make
a yery indifferent Cauſe paſlable? _-

_ _Sebaſt. Thank you for nothing, Phil. Do
you think. I will be put off with a ſtale Com-
plement ?

Part I. Conference. 75
plement ? T have, I think, demonſtrated that
Religious Diſcourſe is both the moſt manly and
rational, the moſt pleaſant and comfortable
the moſt prudent and wary; and to all this, the
molt genteel and obliging. Deal now like a
Friend and a Gentleman with me; tell me
what Flaws you have obſerved in my Reaſoning,
or what Objections you have to what I have
faid.

Phil. To deal plainly and faithfully with you,
and my ſelf too, 1 think your Reaſons are nn-
anſwerable ; and I have nothing to object, but
to what you ſaid inthe laſt place, about the Gen-
teelneſs of this Wa' of Converſation ; and that
is only this, Methinks you talk in this Particu-
lar, as if you came out of a Cloyſter, or rather
out of another World ; for your Diſcourſe is
not calculated for the Age we live in: Alas! the
World is not at the paſs you ſuppoſe ; you con-
verſe with Books, which fill you with fineSpecu-
lations ; but had you read Men as much as I have
done, you would find, as I ſaid before,' that it
would be a very difficult thing to get any Body
to keep you company at. that rate, notwith-
ſtanding all the Arguments you have given, or
can give for it. You have read ( and fo havel}
of one Nicodemw, that came to our Saviour on
purpoſe to conferr with him on the Buſineſs of
another World ; but it is obſerved he came by
Night, as if he was aſhamed of his Enterprize:
And beſides, his Name is, upon this Occaſion, (for
ought I know) become a By-word, and Name of
Reproach to this Day. And we have heard: of
ſome other Perſons, who in great Agonies of Mind
have been inquiſitive into thoſe Affeairs, and made
Religion the principal Theme of their _

courſe :

8 A Winter-Evening Part [.

courſe : But then was then, and now is now ;
thoſe Men would now be ſuſpetted as not well in
their Wits that affeted ſo antick a Garb: Inſo-
much that even Divines themſelves, who, for
the Honour of their Profeſſion, and upon Ac-
count of the Nature of their Office and Studies,
may better be allowed to entertain ſuch Diſcour-
ſes; yet ( whether it be out of Modeſty, or De-
ference to the Humour of the Age) it is caſily ob-
ſervable, that they generally decline the Way
you recommend, and maintain Converſation at
the rate of other Men. Judge you therefore,
whether, at this time of Day, if a Man in health
ſhould talk ſo, he would not be counted an Hy-
pochondriacal Perſon ; or, eſpecially; if a Gen-
tleman ſhould uſe it, he would not be wondred
at as uncouth and unfafhionable.
Nay, that is not the worſt of the Caſe nei-
| ther : For the now modiſh way
About Prophan® of treating Religion ( if by
Diſcourſe. . - : :
chance it come in the way ) 1s
either to find Flaws in it, and by Sceptical $o-
phiſms to undermine the very Foundations of it ;
or elſe by Drollery to burleſque and render it ri-
diculous. To talk malapertly and fcurrilouſly
againſt it, and now and then to break a Jeſt up-
on God Almighty, is an Argument of Wit : But
to ſpeak gravely and reverently, is dull and te-
dious beyond Meaſure ; the ſure Sign of a formal
Fop, or a Phanatick.) PE
Sebaſt. God forbid ! Though I know you un-
derſtand the World better than I do, becauſe
( as you wittily upbraided me ) my Converſation
is moſt with the Dead ; yet I am in good hope
you are now miſtaken, and that the State of the
Living is not fo prodigiouſly bad as you _
ent

Part I. Conference. 79

ſent it. I know there are a ſort of Tap-inſpi-
red Debauchees, ( whoſe Wit is broached with
the Hogſhead, and runs on tilt with it ) that
love to put Tricks upon every Man, and every
Thing that is graver and wiſer than themſelyes :
Nor do I ſo much wonder at it, (conſidering the
Men) foraſmuch as if Religion be true, they
muſt expe& to be damned ; and if it obtain its
juſt Veneration, they mult expect to be the Scorn
of Mankind. It is not ſtrange therefore if they
( conſulting their own Intereſt ) either under-
mine it, or blaſpheme it, that they may have
their Revenge upon it before-hand. But take
Courage, Philander, for theſe Men's Tongue is
no Slander ; neither, upon due Conſideration, is
there more of Wit than of Vertue in their Rib-
baldry.

As for the more cunning part of them, who
will needs be Sceptical, and think to give Proof
that they have more Wit than other Men, only
becauſe: they have leſs Faith and Modeſty ; wha
kriows not how eaſie a thing it is to carp, and
make Objections? And that a trifling, captious
Coxcomb can ask more Queſtions than a wiſe
Man can anſwer ? As any Man may pull down
faſter than another can build up. It is one Sign
of a good Judgment, to be able to ask a diſcreet
and pertinent Queſtion - and another, to diſcern
what SatisfaCQtion is fit to be expeted; and then,
in the third place, there is ſuch a Vertue as mo-
deſtly to ſit down and reſt ſatisfied with ſuch an
Anſwer as the Nature of the Thing will admit
of ; all which thoſe captious Hypercriticks are
deſtitute of. |

And then, for the prophane Droll : Every
Man of Senſe and good Manners knows, _

c

89 AW inter-Evening Part I.
Wit without Bounds - the w- = Definition of
Scurrility ; and that it is an ea-

Ty. fie thing to pleaſe a Man's ſelf
in the one, if he have no regard to the other,
but will let fly at every thing that comes in his
way. For my part, I look upon it as every whit
as great zi Inſtance of Dulneſs, as of Impiety,
to need ſo large a Scope for Wit as theſe Men al-
tow themſelves. A good and true Wit will find
Matter enough within the Bounds of Sobriety,
and not think himſelf ſtraitned though he ſpare
God and Religion. The Men therefore you
ſpeak of are like blind Bayard, bold and dull ;
and if they now and then happen upon ſomething
more than ordinary, who knows but the Devil
may help them toit, who 1s always very ready
to aſſiſt in this Caſe ?

Therefore, my good Friend, ſetting both
theſe kinds of Men afide, who are not the Copy,
but the very Scandal of the Age they live ih ;- let
us conſider impartially what elſe there rs, able to
diſcourage ſuch a Way of Converſing as we are
upon. I have made it plain already, that all the
Reaſon in'the World is for it, and it is as cer-
tain that there are no Laws againſt it ; nor doth
Authority ſo much as diſcountenance it in the
leaſt. Beſides, there is, I am confident, as quick
a Senſe of Vertue and Piety in the prefent Times,
as in the beſt Times of our Fore-fathers. And if
there be ſome lewd and profligate Men againſt
Qin there are others, and thoſe of the. beſt

b]

ality, who think it ſo far from unbecoming
heir Rank, that nothing is more ſavoury and
acceptable to them than pious Diſcourſe. And
ſome of theſe, as I am informed, meet at one

anothers Houſes uſually every Week, or as ofter?
as

Part [. Conference. 81

as their Occall ons permit ; and there, whilſt
they walk in the Garden, or fit together by
the Fire, ( according as the Weather, invites
them) they. make it their Buſineſs. to re-in-
force upon ane another?s Minds the great Prin-
ciples of Chriſtianity, to afte&t their Hearts
mutually with the Conſequences of them. And
when this is done, ( they ſay) they return
home as much raiſed in their Spirits, and
cheered in their very_ Countenances, as the
inolt jolly Good Fellows do from their merry
Aſſgnations.

Phil. This is a pretty piece of News you tell
me. But, I pray you, ( by the Way ) Do you
know any of theſe Men well? Are they not
Conventiclers ? 1 tell you plainly, I ſuſpe&, this
PraCtice looks a-{quint that Way.

Sebaſt. No ; very far from it, I aſſure you.
Thoſe | know of them are Perſons moſt obſer-
vant of the Laws of their Country, conſtant
and devout Frequenters of their Pariſh-Church,
true Friends of the Clergy, zealouſly affeted
towards the Common-Prayers, and all the Offi-
ces of the Liturgy ; and do as much abominate
and diſcountenance every Inſtance of that fa-
Ctious, gadding, goſſipping Pretence of God-
lineſs, as any fort of Men whatſoever do, or.
ought to do ;. but having a quick Senſe of
Piety, and a great Concern upon them for ano-
ther World, they endeavour by the aforeſaid
Means, to preſerve and improve this Temper in.
themſelves, and to propagate it to others : And
this they do the more ſecurely, as being con-
demned by no Law ; and the more innocently,
as condemning none of thoſe that do not imi-
tate them. | FX

Cy But

32 A Winter-Evenins PartT.

But I do not mention this particular Club of
Perſons, with Intention to make them a Pre-
cedent for all others; for, beſides that their
Cuſtom is only voluntarily taken vp, and vp-
on no Apprehenſions of any neceſſary Obliga-
tion upon them ſo to do; for then it would
be a great Burthen upon the Conſciences of Men
there are alſo ſeveral Inconveniences not unlike-"
ly to attend the PraQtice, if not prudently ma-
naged, which I need not name. That there-
fore which I aimed at in the Mention of theſe
Men's Uſage, was, (amongſt other Proofs) to
fſhew, that the World was not ſo abandoned
of true Zeal and Piety as you ſuggeſted, that
prophane Diſcourſe. hath not ſo univerſally
obtained, * nor that Godly Conference was ſo
antiquated and exploded ; but that a Gentle-
man might {till adventure to be found at it,
without impeachment of his Prudence or Dig-
nity.

And moreover, I humbly conceive, that
by how much the more there is of Truth in
your Obſervation, by ſo much the more are
all ſerious and ſenſible Men bound to pur
to their Endeavours to turn the Stream of
Converſation from Froth and Folly, to this
great and important Concern. For, if this
be out of Faſhion, the more is the Shame ;
and it is a Thouſand Pities but that we
ſhould ſtrive to bring it into Faſhion, if it
were but to run down that prophane Hu-
mour you ſpeak of : And eſpecially, to re-
pair the Diſhonour done to the Divine Maj: ſty
by thoſe ſcurrilous Libertines, who, with e-
qual Madneſs and Folly, let their Tongues run
T10t againſt him.

What !

Part I. ©: 'Conference. x 83

What ! 'Shall we be Mealy-mouthed in a
good Cauſe;-- when- they are impudent -in a
bad one ? Shall we be aſhamed to own God,
when they defte him ? Is God fo inconſfider- -
able a Being, that we dare not ſtand by him?
Are Piety and Vertue Things to be bluſhed
at ? Is Eternal Salvation be-
come fo trivial a Thing, that yg
we ſhould be unconcerned a- —— 2d
bout it? Do-we yield the Cauſe
to theſe half-witted Profligates? Do we ac-
knowledge the Goſpel. to be indeed ridicu-
\ Jous? Or do we confeſs our ſelves the verieſt
Cowards in the World, and judge our ſelves
unworthy of Eternal Life ? For ſhame, let us
beſo far from being either cow?d or byaſs'd by
ſuch Examples, that we reſolve to make better
. Where we cannot find them ? Why ſhould we
think ſo meanly of our ſelves, as to follow only,
and not to lead ? In a Word, Why may not we
begin a good Faſhion, rather than fall in with a
bad one ?

Beſides, I perſuade my ſelf, this will be no
very hard Thing to do, if we conlider the Au-
thority and Majeſty of ſincere and generous
Picty, and the Guilt and Baſe-ſpiritedneſs of
Vice and Prophaneneſs. If we be ſoft and timo-
rous, that grows rampant and intolerable ; but
if Vertue ſhine out in its own Rays, it dazles
and baffles all thoſe Birds of Night. If Men
will be perſaaded to aflert their own Princi-
ples manfully, to talk of God worthily and
courageouſlly, the verieſt Ruffians will preſently
be gagged and tongue-tied : As in Conjurations,
(they ſay) name but. God, and the Devil va-
miſhes; ſo enter reſolutely into pious Conference,

G 2 and

84 A Winter-Evening Part T.

and it will preſently lay all the Oaths, and Blaſ-
phemies, and ſcurrilous Talk of thoſe deſperate
Wretches.

And ( by the Way } this is the moſt genteel,
and alſo the moſt effeftual Way of reproving
that kind of Perſons; namely, . to deal with
them as Scholars deal by one another ; when
any one ſpeaks falſe Latin, they only repeat

it after him in true Latin, and as it ought to

be : So here, let us ſpeak right Things of God
when they ſpeak amiſs, and. there needs: no
more to damp them ; they will either turn on
your Side, and ſpeak as. you do, or leave. the
Field to you.

This, "his Philander, therefore is the only
Way to mend the World ; and without this, it
will hardly ever be done. -It is not good Books
and Preaching that will retund a Prophane Hu-
mour ; for ſuch Perſons will either not read and
hear them, or not conſider them : Nor is ic
Prayer and Faſting too. that will caſt out this
deaf (but not dumb) Devil. But when good
Men are as bold as evil Men are impudent ; I
mean, -as openly good as the other are bad ;
when Piety is daring, and (if you will pardon
the Expreſſion ) He&ors Lewdneſs out of Coun-
tenance ; then, I ſay, the World will, if not
grow devout, yet, at leaſt, grow modeſt and
civil towards Religion. When vertuous Men
give evidence that they believe themſelves ;
when they demonſtrate that the Kingdom of
God is not in Word only, but in Power z when
their Principles and Pretenſions appear in their
Spirit, their Diſcourſes, their whole Life and
Converſation ; when they continually breath of

God, and of Heaven.
And

= oy EE Pre arr ga oy

Part I, Conference, 35

And (to ſay no more) by this Courſe alſo
2 Man ſhall gain a worthy Reputation and
Eſtezm to himſelf: For, whereas a baſhful,
puſillanimous, complying Humour, that will
crouch to a Debauch for fear of Offence, and
faulter and mince the Matter of Prophaneneſs
to curry Favour with lewd Men, ſhall be deſpi-
ſed and trodden down by every Body ; a brave,
generous Aſlerter of his Principles, and of God's
Honour, that fills the Place and Company where
he is with the ſweet Odours of Piety and De-
votion, procures himſelf a Veneration where-
ever he goes; he looks like oſes when he
came out of the Mount, his Face ſhines, and
all Men ſee a Glory about him ; inſomuch that
thoſe that cannot find in their Hearts to imi-
tate him, yet cannot chuſe but reyerence and
admire him.

Phil. I think your Mind is an inexhauſtible
Fountain of Arguments on this Subject : Every
Occaſion affords you a freſh Tide of Eloquence.
Either you have very much ſtudied this Point,
or it is wonderfully pregnant of its own Proofs :
For my own part, 1 cannot bear up againſt you.
I confeſs, I thought, when we firſt entred on
this Particular, it was impoſſible that I ſhonld
ever be of your Opinion therein ; but now I am
ſo far from having any thing material to obje&,
that I proteſt I am clearly ſatisfied that it would
be a very wiſe Thing, and well worthy of our
Endeavours, to bring it into Uſe and Pradtice :
I mean, as much as poſſibly we can, to exclude
idle Tales and Drollery out of our Converſe, or,
at leaſt, to confine them to a narrower Compals,
and ſo to make Way for this great Affair of Re-

ligion.
G 3 But

36 A Wiuter-Evenins Part I.

But yet, let me. tell you, though you have
convinced me,” you have not ſilenced others :
There are thoſe will elude the Arguments they
cannot anſwer, 'and- expoſe -what they are re-
ſolved not to comply withal. They will ſay,
This Talking of Religion 1s a! Mountebank-
Frick to impoſe 'upon the People ; that it is
a Deſign of Vain-glory, or-an'Artifice to ſeem
better th-n we are. They will *ell you, that
ſincerely good Men uſe co be modeſt and filent,
and to enjoy their Senſe of Piety in ſecret. In
ſhort, When you have faid all you can to re-
commend this Way of Converfation, they will
ſay ic is no better than Puritaniſm, or Pha-
naticiſm; and having affixed ſuch a Name up-
on it, they will 'run both you -and it down
preſently. +

Sebaſt. Hearty Thanks, dear Phil. for put-
ting me in mind of that Danger, which other-
wiſe I ſhould' not have been aware of. [I ac-
knowledge I am ſo far unskilled in the World,
that I was apt to- think it was' ſufficient to a
Cauſe, to be backed with good Proofs ; and
that when a Buſineſs had recommended it ſelf
to the Reaſon and Conſcience of Men, the
Work was done. I little thought Men muſt
be wheedled into a Compliance with their own
Judgments ; and much leſs, that they would
be ſo diſ-ingennous towards themſelves, as to
DESS pat- a Cheat upon their own
= [O_ Senſes: Nor did I ſuffictently
the Badge of any ©nlider the Power of Names,
Set. ' to make Good Evil, and Evil
: Good ; and that the beſt Thing
in the World may be run down by the mere

Blaſt of an odious Nick-name. Lord ! What a
Venomous

Part I. Conference. 8 7

venomous Breath hath Common Fame, that it
can change the Nature of Things ? What an
huge Leviathan is Vulgar Opinion, that it ſhould
be able to oppole it ſelf to the beſt Reaſon of
Mankind, and to God Almizhty too ? If this be
ſo, who would exerciſe their Underſtanding, or
dare to propound any generous Thing to the
World ; and not rather ſet himſelf a-drifr, to
run with the Tide.

But yet this comforts me, that it looks like a
Confeſſion of the inſuperable Strength of my Ar-
guments, when Men rcſort to ſuch Subterfuges :
It is a Sign they dare not encounter me on thz
Square, that uſe ſuch foul Play ; and that Men
are deſtitute of Reaſon, when they betake them-
{elves to Libels and Reproaches.

Let us then reſume a little Courage, it may be
we ſhall conquer at laſt, becauſe our Adverſaries
deſpair of an honourable Victory. That which
I contend for ( you know) is this, That it be-
comes Men to take all fit and fair Occaſions to
ſpeak worthily of God, and to make Advantage
of frizndly Converſation, towards the lmprove-
ment of one another in Morals, as well as in Se-
cular, or any Other Concerns: And can any one
be ſo abſurdly malicious, as to call this Phanati-
ciſm ? Doth that deſerve the odious Name of a
Party, which is the great and univerſal Concern
of all Mankind ' Is that to be-accounted the pe-
culiar Shibboleth of a Sect, which ſpeaks a good
Man, and a Chriſtian ? Is that to be made a Mark
of Infamy, which the beſt Men in the World
wear as a Badge of Honour ? Are we minded that
this Word Phanaticiſm ſhould have the Power of
an Oſtraciſm, and put a Diſgtace upon Men for
being too good ?

G 4 if

33 A Winter-Ewvening Part 1:

If Men, in their Intercourſes and Communi-

cations, deliberated about ſetting forth of ſome
new God, or, at-leaſt, of ſome new Religion,
there were juſt Cauſe of ſuch an odious Imputa-
tion : But to take an Opportunity to ſpeak of
the true God, and the old Religion, gravely
and piouſly, 'it cannot be that this ſhould be Pu-
ritaniſm, unleſs it be ſo to be in earneſt in Reli-
gion, which God forbid. Sure it is not the Cha-
rater of any mere Sect amongſt us to love God ;
and if it be not; then neither-can it be ſo to talk
of him affeQtionately, ſince the latter is the caſie
and natural Iſſue and Expreflion 'of the former.
Dawid; 1 remeniber, called his Tongue his Glo-
ry: And is that alone, of all the Powers of
Soul and Body, exempred from any Part in do-
ing Honour to the Creator ?
' Areall Men Puritans when they are fick, or
upon their Death beds ? And yet then there are
very few are ſo modiſh as to wave the Talk of
Religion, or to talk lightly and drollingly of it.
Either therefore all dying Men are SeCtaries, or
elſe they teach us then what we ought to pra-
Riſe at other Times, if we be not unreaſonably
careleſs and deſperate.

- As for thoſe that are really Phanatick, and
are continually canting in a loathſome manner of
Religion, thoſe Parrots, that talk without any
Senſe or Apprehenſion -of what they ſay ; or
thoſe Ricketty Phariſees, that-are all Head, and
Ears, and Tongue, but feeble in their Hands
and Feet ; that talk, but do nothing 3 let theſe
be called Puritans, or Phanaticks, or what Men
pleaſe : But let no Diſhonour be refle&ted upon
thoſe that underſtand and believe what they ſay,
$0 live up to what they believe and profels.

| \ For,

_ -

Part I. Conference. 89

For, though it may pleaſe tboſe who have a
Mind to put a Slur upon this Inſtance of real
Piety which I am vindicating, to confound it
with that other hypocritical Guiſe of it which I
have now condemned, that ſo they may expoſe
it to Contempt and Diſhonour ; yet, as it is cer-
tain theſe two are as different Things as Senſe
and Nonſenſe, or as Life and Varniſh, ſo (im-
partial Men being Judges ) that very Paint and
Pageantry bears Evidence of the Excellency of
that Sincerity which I am recommending : For,
you know, Men do not ule to counterfeit that
which is of no value, Painted Beauty is a great
Argument of the Deſirableneſs of that which is
true and native; ſo there is certainly a very
deſerved Admiration of holy Diſcourſe, and a
great Power and Charm in it; otherwiſe, it
would never be fo artificially pretended to by
ſuch Men, nor eſpecially be ſufficient to give
Countenance ( as we find it doth) to their
ſiniſter Purpoſes and Deſigns. The World, I
fay, would not be ſo ſottiſh, as to be impo-
ſed upon by Religious Cant; nor deſigning
Hypocrites be ſo filly, as to go about to abuſe
the World this Way, if it were not an ac-
knowledged Caſe, that there is a real Worth
in that which they endeavour apiſhly to imi-
tate. So that the ObjeCtions againſt us are
unanſwerable Arguments for us; and we have
great Aſſurance we ſhall carry our Cauſe, when
our very Reproaches turn to our Honour.
But what if, after all this, Ph.
] ſhould take the Boldneſs to aſ- Go4ly Conference

- an effefual Way
ſert, that ſuch holy Intercourſe , ſupplant Phana-

as | am ſpeaking of, and eſpe- jj.
cially under thoſe Conditions and

Qualifications

go A Winter-Evening Part I.

Qualifications I have put upon it, is fo far from
Phanaticiim, or Puritaniſm, or any SeCtarian
Oxiar, that, on the contrary, (if the Practice
of it became general amongſt good Men) it
would be the moſt eftetual Way in the World
zo daſh thoſe formal Diſguiſes out of Counte-
nance, and to put all Phanatical Tricks out of
all Requeſt and Reputation. This, I believe,
will ſeem a Paradox to you at firſt ; but I] am
very confident you will be of my Mind when
you have conſidered, that the only, or, at leaſt,
the principal Thing which that ſort of Men
ſupport themſelves by, is, the Gift of the
Tongue, a peculiar Knack of Talking religiouſ-
Iy : For if you look into their Lives and Tem-
per, they have no Advantage of other Men ;
and if you examine either their Principles, or
their Abilities, theſe will not mend the Matter ;
and yet they have ſtrange Authority and In-
fluence in the World ; they charm Men into Se-
curity of their Honeſty by their Talk ; they caſt
2 Miſt before Men's Eyes, that they are taken for
Godly Men, let their Pride and Paſſion, their
Covetouſneſs and Ambition, be otherwiſe as pal-
pable and notorious as they can. This Talent
of Talking is fo valuable, it redeems them from
Snfpicion ; with this Paſs-port they go undeteCt-
cd ; they are Saints from the Teeth outwards,
and Fools admire them ; and ſo they compaſs
their Ends.

Now, were all ſincerely good Men fo ſenſible
of this as they ought to be, and would they in
earneſt apply themſelves to giave, and ſerious,
and pious Diſcourſe in the Habit of their Con-
verſations, theſe Jack-Daws would be deprived

of their borrowed Feathers, and thoſe crafty
Men

Patt I. Conference. on

Men would not have a Mask or Vizard left them -
to cheat the World withal.

You will ſay, perhaps, they would out-
ſhoot thoſe good Men in their own Bow, and
talk at an higher Rate in Hypocriſie, than”
the other could do in Sincerity. But for An-
ſwer: Do but conſider whether there be not

a greater Power in Life, than in mere Shew

and Pageantry ; whether that which proceeds
from the Thoughts, and Heart, and Principles
within, be not likely to have more Vigour and
Spirit, than that which hath no Root, no Foun-
dation ; but is begotten, and lives, and dies be-
tween the Tongue and Teeth. Do not you ob-
ſerve, that nothing ſo much diſparages a Picture
as the Preſence of him for whom it was drawn ?
Life hath a Thouſand Vigours and Beauties,
which no Hand of the Painter can reach and
diſplay. So hath Spiritual Life, when it puts
forth it ſelf ; a Spirit, a Warmth, an Air, or
whatſoever you will call it, which cannot be fo
imitated, but it will ſhame and dete@ the Ri-
val. The great Miſchief of the World there-
fore, and the only Security of Hypocriſie, is,
that the Truth and Life diſappears, and gives
its Counterfeit the Stage entirely, to act upon ;
but let that appear, and confront its Adverſary,
and Hypocrilie will be ſenſible of an unequal
Match, and bluſh, or withdraw it ſelf. When,
I ſay, Men that feel the Power of Religion in
their own Souls will bz perſuaded to expreſs
themſelves habitually, manly and judiciouſly,
they will baffle and confound all Theatrical Pre-
tenders to Religion. And now, Phil. what is
become of that formidable ObjeCtion, as you
and I thought it at firſt ? May not we now ad-
| venture

92 A Winter-Evening Part FT.

venture to talk of Religion, without the Dan-
ger of Phanaticiſm ?

Phil. Yes, I ſee clearly we may; and not on-
ly ſo, but you have now convinced me, that for
that very Reaſon we ought to Go it, as the beſt
Way to ſupplant Phanaticiſm. But at the worſt,
if there were ſome Danger that I ſhould incurr
the raſh Cenſure of ſome that I value, and were
likely to be called Phanatick for my pains, I
would not ſtick to ſerve ſo many great and ex-
c£llent Ends at that hazard, if I could. |

Sebaſt. Bravely reſolved, my good Friend !
Now you ſpeak like a Man, and a Chriſtian :
There's the very Point of Vertue. He that is
too tender and delicate, hath not the Courage
to be good ; and he that will venture nothing
here, will win nothing in the other World.
You know my Senſe already, that good Nature
i5 an excellent and uſeful Companion of Ver-
tue ; but, as the Caſe may happen, a little Mo-
rolity is neceſlary to preſerve them both. But,
F pray you, why did you put an if at the laſt ?
After all, Do you queſtion whether it be poſlible
to diſcourſe piouſly ?

Phil. No, good Sebaſtian, that is not it ;
for you have convinced me of the Fecibleneſs,
as well as the Excellency of that kind of
Converſation : But you know, ( as I have ſaid
before) that is out of the Road of Diſcourſe ;
and- beſides the Difficulty of bringing thoſe
one converſes with to it, it is natural for a
Man to follow his old Biaſs. If I were once
entred into ſuch a Communication, I am ſure
I ſhould embrace it, and I think I could con-
tinue it, But there is a ſheepiſh kind of Mo-
deſty in this, (as well as in other Things 1!

| tat

Part I. Conference. 93

that checks and reſtrains a Man from begin-
ning that which neither he nor his Compa-
nions have been uſed to. If thereſore you can
help me to conquer my ſelf, as well as to an-
ſwer ObjeCtions ;z to overcome my Temper, as
well as to ſubmit my Judgment : I would then
ſet about it as well as I could.

Sebaſt. With all my Heart z only with this
Condition as well as I can, ( as you ſay.) But,
I pray, give me leave to ask you a Queſtion by
the bye, and not decline that which you have
put to me : The Caſeis this ; It is commonly ob-
ſerved, that good Men find ſuch a Modeſty { as
you ſpeak of) to reſtrain them, when they are
ſetting themſelves to begin ſome good Diſ-
courſe ; inſomuch that ſometimes, with very
great Difficulty ( if at all ) they can ſcrew them-
ſelves up to it : But contrariwiſe, lewd and
prophane Men rant and heCftor at an intolera-
ble Rate; they will blaſpheme and burleſque
Religion when they are in their Humour, with-
out Regard to God and Man. Now ſeeing the
former have all the Reaſon in the World on
their Side, and the other as much againſt them,
what. is it that makes this Difference in their
Spirit and Temper.

Phil. That I may come the ſooner at the $o-
lution of my own Difficulty, I will anſwer your
Queſtion as briefly as I can; and I think it may
be reſolved into theſe ſeveral

= What mabes pre-
n
Cauſes : Firſt, Prophane Me phane Men {o beld

are generally very groſly 1gno- 7, Aſſaulrs
rant ; for | cannot imagine that y,,, religion.
any thing elſe ſhould make them

bold with God Almighty. And though they
pretend to Wir, yet a Man to their own Tooth
hath

94 A Winter-Evenins Part I.

hath told us, That a certain Doſe of that
Thing called Wit, is a necellary ingredient
into the Compoſition of a very ridiculous
Fool. And I have heard it hath been ſaid by
a better Man than he, that a Smattering in
Knowledge ( which is the Meaſure of a Wit )
difpoſes Men to Atheiſm ; whereas a full Pro-

rtion would carry them through, to the
Senſe of God and Religion. The ſecond Cauſe
E aſſign is, That theſe Men having abandoned
Vertue, they have therewith loſt all good
Nature, and civil Reſpect ; and are delivered
vp to Infolence, and an affronting Humour.
And Thirdly, I make no great 'doubt, but
the Devil, whoſe Work they do, aſſiſts them
in it. And now you will caſily think there
needs no other Concurrence ; yet I will add
another, and that - is, Drunkenneſs : For, me-
thinks it ſhould be out of the Power of the
Devil himſelf to tempt a ſober Man to ſuch
a Villainy ; bur in the Rage of Drink, God
is defied, and every Thing that is ſacred. But
now to my Queſtion.

Sebalt. Firſt, Phil. let me kiſs your Hands for
your ingenious Anſwer to my Query ; and then,
in the ſecond place, I wiſh I could anſwer yours
as well. The plain Trath is, ( as I have ac-
knowledged to you before) I have been in that
Oven, and therefore cannot wonder to find anc-
ther Man there; and though I cannot always
conquer my Baſhfulneſs, yet in ſuch Caſes I al-
ways endeavour it, and [ will tell you by what
Methods; and ſo I hope the ſame Remedies
may relieve us both.

Firſt then, when I enter into Company, with

Deſign to engage them in good Diſcourſe, I en-
deavour,

Part I. Conference. gs

deavour, if it be poſſible, to make ſome Friend
privy to my Plot, who perhaps ſhall fit at ſome
diſtance from me, but underſtanding his Cue,
ſhall be always ready to ſecond me in what I un-
dertake; and ſo by an honeſt Confederacy, we
can carry on the Buſineſs, And this I do eſpe-
cially, if I apprehend the Company to coniift
either of prophane Perſons; or captious Wits.
For, if a modeſt Man ſhould, in ſuch a Caſe, be-
gin an unuſual Diſcourſe, and have no Body te
follow him, he will not only miſcarry of his
Purpoſe, but be aſhamed and confounded. But
if he have one prepzred to comply with him,
they ſhall both have Time to recolle& them-
ſelves, and to carry the Ball of Diſcourſe whi-
ther they pleaſe.

In the next Place, When 1 am deſtitute of
the Aſſiſtance of ſuch an Aſlociate to ſecond
and relieve me, then, if I apprehend I have
an Opportunity of diſcourſing uſefully, I re-
ſolve to begin, whatever-come of it ; that is,
| forcibly break Silence, though
it be with Trembling, and Pale- Means to raiſe
neſs, and Faultering, and with- 97 P's aa
out any well-contrived Expreſ- Hom #. edna
ſions: And when once the Ice cation.
is broken, the worſt is paſt ;
then preſently my Colour, and Speech, and Spt-
rits will return again. For to proceed is very
eafie then, becauſe, as I have noted before, the
Objects of Religion lie ſo ready to a Man's
Thoughts, that he cannot be at a loſs in the Se-
quel of his Diſcourſe.

In order hereto, I endeavour to raiſe in my
own Heart a great Zeal of God?s Glory, and a
generous Deſign of doing Good to thoſe I _

verſe

96 AW; inter-Exening Part I.

verſe with : And therefore I think with my ſelf,
I am not only to ſtand upon my Guard, and ſe-
cure my ſelf from Infeftion ; nor much leſs to
be a mere Negative, and content my ſelf to do
no Hurt to my Acquaintance; but that it is ex-
pected from me, I ſhould benefit them, and ſea-
fon their Intercourſe with ſomething vertuous
and graceful, | 4

Moreover, I endeavour, in the whole Con-
duct of my ſelf, and the Habit of my Life,
to arrive at a Seriouſneſs of Spirit, and a
Deepneſs of Thoughit ; without which, nei-
ther ſhall I be in Temper to begin or carry
on any ſuch weighty Diſcourſe with others,
nor will they expect it from me: A light, tri-
fling, jeſting Spirit is good for nothing but
Sport and May-game. Such as can ordinarily
find in their Hearts to ſtep afide to a Quib-
ble, or a Clinch, are generally Men ſo unfit
for Religion, that they are ſeldom uſeful to
themſelves in any Secular Buſineſs : But a ſerious
Man hath his Thoughts about him, and his ve-
ry Mein and Conntenance raiſes the ExpeCta-
tion of the Company, and ſo they are half pre-
pared to receive his Impreſſions. Now, to bring
my ſelf to this Temper, 1 often repreſent to my
ſelf God's Omnipreſence ; and that I am before
a mighty, wiſe, and moſt reverend Majeſty, who
takes notice of all my Carriage and Demeanour.
I think frequently of the Judgment to come,
and the wonderful Accuracy and Solemnity of
it ; of the unſpeakable Concerns of Hell and
Heaven, and the whole Affair of another
World. By theſe Conſiderations 1 curb the
Levity and Wantonneſs of my Spirit, and fo be-

come both furniſhed with fit Thoughts to com-
n | municate,

Part I. Conference. 9 ;

municate,” and allo with a proper Temper to
communicate them.

Beſides this, | make it my earneſt Endeavour
to be as much above the World as I can; I mean,
to have as indifferent an Eſteem of Riches and
Fame, &c; as is poſlible, that my Heart maynor.
eagerly and intently run upon them ; for 1 find
by woful Experience, that whenſoever it warps
that way, 1 am ſure to be liſtleſs and formal in
any ſuch Enterprize as we are ſpeaking of : But
whenſoever I can contemn them, then I am, as
it were, all Spirit, and have ſo lively Impreſſes
of another Woxld upon me, that 1 can almoſt
make it viſible to- my. Companions.

Amongſt all theſe, I pray daily and earneſtly
ſor God's Grace and Aſſiſtance, that. he will e-
very where be preſent to me by his Holy Spirit,
and put uſeful Thoughts into my Heart, and
give me Courage to-expreſs them ſo,. as to beget
the like in others. | ER 6 dt

- \This, Sir, is the Method I take with my ſelf x
and having, . 1 thank God, often ſacceeded well.
with it, agaiaſt a cowardly Heart of my own, I,
cannot but expect it will have ;greater and more.
ſignal EffeCts upon you. ia tath

Phil, God verifie the Omen. However, 1
thank you moſt hzartily for the Receipt, whick-
1 will keep as long as I live. _ cat

_ Seb/t. But, 1 pray, good Pzil. do not make
it publick ; for though 1 envy no Body the Bz-
nefit of my Experience, yet I would b2 loth the;
World ſhoald know what a ſhimzful Diſeaſe I
have bzen ſick of. _ js Hs

Phil. O Sir, Timidity is but a natural Iofir-
mity, and hath not much Shame attending ir :,
But I mult tell you, as my Coafeſſor, or Phyſi-'

H c2ng

8 A Winter- Evehing Partl.

cidn; which you will: of another Diſcaſe 1 1a-
bour under, ſo ſhameful and ſcandalous, that
ſcarce any Body will own it ; and that is Igno-
Trance : {If I kad Courage enongh for' the Buli-
neſs, (we have all this while been ſpeaking of )
yet [ 4m afraitl by my Unskilfulneſs 1 ſhall ſpoil
a}: Let me therefore pray you to afford me
your Advice itt this' Caſe alſo.

Sebkft. Fear it not, Phil; A Man of your
chearful Counitenanee, ſprightly Vigour, and
Kenignity of Temper, can never labour under
afy ſich Diſeaſe."

Phil. Good Sthaſtian be not too ſecure of me x
for this is a Bufinefs 6f thar fiatbre;' that unleſs
it be done gracefully, it had: better' be ler alone ;;
and eſpecially becauſe the Enterpreze is ſonic-
what new and unuſual ; therefore the greater
Dexterity and Managentent is required, to give
if a good Appearance at its Setting out; and ſo
to lay a Foundation for its coming into common
Uſe and Reputation. And beſides, - it concerns
you in point of your own Credit, to furniſh me
out well ;*for ſein PEI you only that have pot
Ae por it, the Dithvnout wal redound to J66,
if I miſcarry, i in the Undertaking..."

' Sebaſt.” \n*earfieft; Sir; and without a Coln-
remktit; you aft Khi wii to Be a' Mari bf fo pood-
Parts, that you ca can never want Materials ; 4nd
then, your tertndſ: « bf Addfeſs wilt hot fil to
glve great / aps and' Accepti#tion to your
Diſcourſes. ' Now it is ar hard thing; that be-
cauſe you tre þlexſed- to thihk' me Wiſe, there-
fore | muſt ſhew my ſelf to be a Fodl ; but that's
a'ſmall matter between Friends : T herefvre, fince
you will have it f6; 1 will tell you- the Effet of

my Obſeryativon in' this Matter, mo
n

Part E. Conference. \ 9g

And the firſt thing to oor purpoſe which 1

remark is, the Example of our
Saviour, ( ard whio can we bet-
ter learn of ? ) And he, I ob-
ſerve, had a Dexterity of ap-
plying every accidental Occurrence to his holy
Putpoſes, a$ it were by a kind of Chymiſtry ſe-
patating. the groſs Matter, and ſubliming ordi-
nary Afffairs to Heavenly Dottrine : Infomuch,
that: there was ſcarcely any common Afffair of
Life, fuch as Eating or Drinking, or Recrea-
tion, no Diſeaſe or Infirmity of the Body, no
Trade and Occupation, ſuch as Merchandize or
Husbaridry ; no Building or Planting, Plowing:
or Sowing ; nay,; not fo mean Employments as
Women's Leavening their Bread, Grinding at
the Mill, or Sweeping an Honfe, -bur he Spi-
ritualized them, 'ated apptied them to his De-
{ignhs. | | |
Now if we would tearn of him; and endea-'
vour to imitate this Dexterity, we might with
great Eaſe, and without all Violence, furprize
ſen into Religion 3 and not only :atievery torn
introduce 'pidns Difcourſe, bat render the Sub-
jet of it imeNigible to the meaneft' Capacities 5
and withal, by thoſe ſenſible 'Reſemblances give
ſach' lively Tocochesnpbn the Minds of Men, as
that what we delivered upon thoſe Occafions
woutd ſtick and remain with them.

And there is no'great Pains of Skill required
fot the doing; of this; the principal requifite to
it is, a Zeal of God'sGlory. and ſuch a conſtant
and fixed Bye upon it as ſhall make us apprehen-
ſive of the Opportunities that preſent them»
{tlves, and then a little Humility ro.condeſcend
to the Weakneſs of People: Which two things

H 2 Pre-

Prudential Ad:
vices about Religi-
01 Cohiference.

100 A Winter-Evening Part I.

pre-ſuppoſed, a very ſmall Exerciſe of Fancy
would draw the Parallels, and make the Appli-
cation ; as any Man will quickly find, that will
ſet himſelf about it.

As for Inſtance, When we viſit a ſick Friend
or Neighbour, what a fair Opportunity have
we to diſcourſe of the Immortality of the Soul ?
And what an eaſie Tranſition is it, from a Phy-
ſician, to a Saviour? Or why may we not as
well cheer up our afflicted Friend with the Com-
forts of Religion, as well as amuze or divert
him with impertinent Stories? Or, ſuppoſe
Friends be together, and diſpoſed to be merry,
why may not ſome Word come in kaſonably of
the Everlaſting Friendſhips in Heaven, or of the
continual Feaſt -of a good Conſcience ? Why
may not the common Chat about News be ele-
vated to the Conſideration 'of the good Tidings
of the Goſpel ? What hinders but our Diſhes:
of Meat may be ſeaſoned with a gracious Word
or two about the Food of our Souls? Whenr-
Men are talking of Old: Age; it would be no-
great Strain if thence our Thoughts riſe up to'
Eternal Life. - Nor any great Flight of Fancy 1s
requiſite to. improve all the Accidents of- our
Lives to- the: Contemplation of. Divine Provi-
dence, which 'orders and governs them. In a
Word, Every thing is capable of Improvement;:
if we be not wanting ; .we. ſhall never want
Opportunity, if we embrace it ; any thing will
ſerve an intent Mind, and- a devout Heart, to
theſe Purpoſes. |

My ſecond Remark is, vpon the Cuſtom of
thoſe ſeveral Perſons in the Goſpel, that upen
divers Occaſions entred into Conference with
oer Saviour ; which I note they always began by

way

Part I. © Conference. 101

way of Queſtion, or Doubt ; as Men deſirous to
be informed, rather than affeQting to teach or
diftate. This was not only the Way of Nicode-
mu, 50h. ij. of the Woman of Samaria, Job. iv.
and of the young Rich. Man, Aatth. xix. who
came in earneſt to be inſtrufted ; but of the
Scribes and Phariſees, and Sadducees, who came
to diſpute. And, indeed, I have heard, this mo-
deſt Way of propounding a Queſtion, and ex-
peCting and replying to the Anſwer, was the
old Way of Diſputation. And certainly this is
of great uſe in our Caſe, for the more eaſie and
acceptable IntroduQion of the ſerious Matters
of Religion into ordinary Converſation. When
. wedo not violently break in upon the Compa-
ny, but civilly make our Way ; not abruptly ob-
trude our Sentiments, but inlinvate them ; not
malapertly reprove other Men*s Errours, or ſu-
perciliouſly diftate our own Opinions z not fall
upon Preaching, or throw down our Gauntlet,
and challenge the Company to a Combat ; bnt
modeſtly appear in the Garb of Learners, and
propound a Caſe, as to Men wiſer than our
ſelves, for onr own Satisfation. This Courſe,
- inftead of offending, exceedingly obliges thoſe
we apply our ſelves to; foraſmuch as every Man
is glad to be accounted wiſe, and fit to be con-
ſulced with.

As, ſuppoſe you ſhould ask the Perſons yon
are with, what they think of ſuch or ſach an Ar-
gument for the Immortality of the Soul, or for
the Proof of a particular Providence ; or ask
their Advice how to anſwer ſuch an ObjeQtion
that comes in your Way againſt either of thoſe,
or any other fundamental Point of Religicn :
And- though ſuck Queſtions may at firſt ſeem

3 merely

102 A Wainter-Eveging Pat],

merely ſpeculatiye, yet, if they be purſued wiſe-
ly, and with that {atention, they will infallibly
lead to Pradctice. |

Or, Suppoſe you put a Caſe about Tempe-
rance 3 as, namely, What are the Rules and
Meaſures of Sobriety, ſo as alſo to avoid Scru-
pulolity ? How far is Warldly Care evil agd yi-
cious, and how far innocent and allowable ?
What is the Predicament of Careleſneſs and
common Swearing, and what kind of Sins it js
reducible to?

Or more generally, How a Map may diſcern

bis own Proficiency in Vertue; . and what Prepa-
ration of a Man's {elf is flatly neceflary againſt
the Uncertainty of Life, and to ſecure the great
Stake of an Intereſt in another World?
Or, to name no more, What the Company
thinks of ſuch or fuch a Paſlage in a Sermon you
lately heard, or in ſuch a Book ? Theſe, and
a Thauſand-more ſuch cakie 1n-lets there are into
zood Diſcourſe, without Imputation of Prag-
maticalneſfs, and which a little Preſence of Mind
will improve to what Purpoſes we delire.

Another thing that I have obſerved in order
to this Affair is, what 1 have learned from the
Cuſtom of prudent Men ; to infinuate that by a
Story, which would not be ſo well received if it
were directly and bluntly delivered. *T<lling of
Stories, you know, is a common Theme of Con-
verfation ; and if a Man have any graceful Way
of telling them, and eſpecially uie any Prudence
in the Choice of them, he hath the Company in
his power, and may lead ther to what Diſcourſe
he will. | And beſides, Men will admitt of that
to be ſaid in the Third Perſon, which they will
not bear in the Second, ..; © -

Now,

Part I. Conferevce. 103

Now, to this purpoſe, ſuppoſe a Man ſhould
have itn readineſs a Story of ſome remarkable
Judgment of God upon fome' 'notorious Sin,
that he would by no means deterr' thoſe he con-
verſes with from, no Bady could take Offence
at the Story, and yet every Man's' Conſcience
would make Application of it. Or ſuppoſe a
Man ſhould, in lively Colours, deſcribe ſome
excellent Perſon, he would not only. put all the
Hearers into the Thoughts of thoſe Vertues that
were fo deſcribed, but ſtir up jointly a modeſt
Shame in them for their own Shortneſs, and an
Emulation of ſo brave an Example, But, to be
ſure, he ſhall hereby give himfelf an Introdu-
ion ( without AffeCtation ) of diſcourſing of
which ſoever of thoſe eminent Vertues he plea-
ſes. Theſe, and many ſuch other Ways there
are, which your own Prudence and Obſervation
will repreſent to you better than I can; by
which a diſcreet Perſon may engage any Com-
pany (in which it is fit for an honeſt Man to be
found ) in good Diſcourſe.

But I will not omit, upon this Occaſion, to
tell you a Story, which I have from very good
Hands, of two very eminent Men, both for
Learning and Piety, in the laſt Age, ( or rather
the Beginning of the preſent ; ) the one of.them
a great Prelate, ( indeed, a Primate) and the
other a Church-man of great Note and Prefer-
ment. Theſe two great Men, as they often met
together to conſult the lotereſt of Learning,
and the Afffairs of the Church ; ſo when they:
had diſpatched that, they ſeldom. parted from
one angther without ſuch an Encounter as this:
p: - Come, good Dottor, ( ſaith the Biſhop ,) let us

now ealk 2 little of Jeſus Chriſt. Or, .on the
H +4 other

104. AW. inter-Evening Part TI;

other ſide, ſaid the Dottor, © Come, my Lord
* let me hear:your Grace ſpeak of the Goodneſs
« of God, with your wonted Piety and Elo-

* quence : Let us warm one another's Hearts

** with Heaven, that we may the better bear this

*© cold World. . I cannot tell-you the Words thar
paſſed between them, nor can you expect it from
me ; but I am ſufficiently aſſured of the Matter
of Fact. And this they performed with that
haly Reverence, and ardent Zeal, with that de-
lightful Senſe and Feeling, that afforded Matter
of Admiration to thoſe of their Friends or Ser-
vants that happened to be preſent, or to over-
hear them. Here is now an Example 6f holy
Conference, without a Preface, and yet without
Exception: A Precedent, not only juſtifying all
I have ſaid, but eaſie to imitate where-ever there
is a like Spirit of Piety. A few ſuch Men would
put Prophaneneſs out of Countenance, and turn
the Tide of Converſation.

Phil. Shall I crave of you to tel me the
Names of thoſe two Perſons ?
Sebaſt. Their Names are ſo well known, that
I think you might ſpare the Queſtion : But they |
were V-— and P———

Phil. 1 gueſs who you mean, and I would to
God there were more of them. 1 doubt I ſhall
never be able to imitate ; but 1am reſolved to
write after ſo-'fatr a' Copy as well as 1 can:
Therefore I pray you, if you have any further
DireCtions for the guiding of my Hand,' let me
have them. ;

Sebaſt. I ſee you are in earneſt; God's Bleſſ Ng
on your Heart for it. Al} that ] have to ſay, or
( as I think } can be ſaid more, may be ſummed
"P in hon four foll m_ Czutions,
Firſt i

Part I. Conference. 105

Firſt, You mnſt remember that ( which was
ſaid before) you are not always to be endea-
vouring, a Diſcourſe of Religion ; other Diſ-
courſe, ſo it be manly and pertinent, is not on-
ly lawful, but neceſſary in its Seaſon. The Wiſe
Man tells us, there is a Time for all things ; To
over-do, is to do nothing to the purpoſe; and
to exclude all other innocent and ingenious Con-
verſe, for the ſake of Religion, is to make Re-
ligion irkſome, and the certain Way to ſhut it
quite out of the World. |

Secondly, Becauſe Religious Conference is not
always a Duty, therefore it is a peculiar Seaſon
and Opportunity that makes it at any time be-
come ſo; and conſequently, that is to be watch-
ed, and laid hold upon. My meaning is, That
when Men are in Drink, or in Paſſion, it is no
fir Time to enter on this Subject, for it will he
but to caſt Pearls before Swine ; it can do thoſe
Perſons no good at ſuch Times, and it may do
us hurt, and Religion too. But w1r Men are
in the calmeſt and ſobereſt Moods, then is the
only Time for this Intercourſe,

Thirdly, It is very adviſeable that we make
a Diſtintion of Perſons, as well as Times, for
this Buſineſs. Yon know the World is not all
of a Size; ſome are our Superiors, others are
our Inferiors, or Fquals ; there are ſome very
acute and learned Men, ſome dull and ignorant ;
ſome are captious, others ſincere and plain-
- hearted ; ſome prophane, and others pious: In
a Word, there are Old and Young, Rich and
Poor, Cheerful and Melancholy, and abundance
other ſuch Differences in Men's Circumſtances :
All which require a pcculiar Adcrefs, if we in-
tend to faſten 2ny gocd thing vpen them. Put

of

106 A Winter-Eveping Part I,

of this I need ſay no more, knowing to whom I
ſpeak. |

Again, Fourtbly, It is a Matter of Prudence
that our Eſſays of this kind be rather _-
than deftruftive ; that is, that we do not take
upon us, authoritatively to quaſh and controll
other Diſcourſe ; but rather take advantage of
any occaſional Paſlages and Hints, from whence
to improve and raiſe it infenibly to that we
would be at. |

Laſtly, That ont of lncngg0es to,the Levity,
and in Compliance with the Curioſity of Men's
Minds, we ſhould got always harp vpon one
String ; but ſometimes deſignedly Jay aſide our
Buſineſs, and then reſume it again; as in Mu-
ſick, to ſing and let fall a Nate, and by and by
get it up again ; that by ſuch Variety we may af-
ford the more delightful Entertainment to thoſe
that are qur Companious. And now, I doubt,
I have quite tired you ; therefore ir is time ta
bid you a Gaqd-Night.

Phil. Dear Sebaſtian, ſhall I tell you a piain
Truth ? When we firſt came together this Even-
ing, your Converſation methought was ſo much
out of the Mode, that though I conſidered you
as an honeſt Gentleman, yet | ſuſpeted I ſhould
have uneaſie Company with you : But now | fan-
fie you are like ſome of thoſe old ſtately Build -
ings I have ſcen, which are a little rough and
weather-beaten without ; but for all that, are
ſubſtantially ſtrong, and expreſs very admirable
Art within : Or, as 1.have heard it was ſaid of
Socrates, that he was like Apothecaries Boxes,
that had the Picture of an Ape, a Satyr, or per-
haps a Serpent, without ſide 3 but contained ex-
cellent Medicaments. So you, that I Tgey
woul

Part I. Conference. 107

would be my Diſeaſe, have been my Phyſician ;
and, which 1s more, have ſet me up for one too.

Sebaſt. Nay then good Night again, if you be
for Complements : But if you have any real va-
lue for me, I hope you will now do me the fa-
vour of your Company at my Houſe ſome other
Evening.

Phil. Never doubt it, Sir, your dead Men
ſhall ſcarcely haunt you more than I will do.
But Good-Night heartily.

The End of the Firſt Conference.

A
Winter-Evening

CONFERENCE.
PART IL.

Prov. XXViJ. 17.

As Iron ſbarpneth Iron, ſo doth the
Countenance of a Man bis Friend.

1 Cor. xv. 33-

Evil Communications corrupt good
Manners.

my I —_—_—_——_D————_—__—_———RA OS _— ——
YC ov rot” CAA > a A ———_— —_ — ——

A
Winter-Evening
CONFERENCE
A T

SEBASTIAN's Houſe.
PART Il. |

—__—_——

__— —

———

The ARGUMENT of the Second
CONFERENCE.

In the former Conference, Sebaſtian having can-
vinced Philander of the great Importance of Re-
ligion, and the Wiſdom of making 'it as well the
Sabjett of Social Comminication, - as of retired
Meditation : Accordingly they . two theet on pur-
poſe this ſecond time to conferr about it. But Bio-
philas, a Sceptical Perſon, being inthetr Company,
he at firſt diverts them from thetr Defign by orb

. Diſcourſe ;, till after a while, under the Diſgntjd
of News, be u wheedted into this Sabje before he
Was aware : Arid then he puts them upon the Proof
of thoſe Principles which they would hive ſappoſed.
Upon this Occaſion the Foundations of Religion 'are
ſearched imo; and particilarly,. that great Point
concerning a Judgment to come; is _—

proved,

112 ATW, mter-Evening Part It.

proved, Which being done, and Biophilas there-"

- by renared ſomewhat more tnclinable to be ſerious,
they then pur ſue ther firſt Intentions, and diſtourſe
warmly and ſenfibly of another World, and of the
receſſary Preparations for it, ſo long, till they not
only inflame their ows Hearts with Devotion, but
ſtrike ſome Sparks of it into Biophilns alſo.

Philander. © U ſee,. Sebaſtian, I am. as

) good as my Promiſe; and at

this time ſo much better, as

T have brought my Neighbour Fiophilus along
with me.

Sebaſt. I always. took you for a Man of your
Word ; but now you have not only acquitted
your ſelf, but obliged me. _

Biophilus. Your humble Servant, good Seba-
ftian : I know you are a ſtudious Perſon; yet F
thought Company would not be unacceptable to
you at this Seaſon. |

Sebaſt. You are heartily welcome,” Sir : I love
my Books well, but my Friends better. Come,
Gentlemen, will it pleaſe you to draw near the
Fire ? The Weather is very ſharp ſtill...

Phil. The Cold continues-z but, thanks be to
God, the Evenings are not ſo tedious face I ſaw
you laſt. 0 EITSTTS |
-; Fioph. How can-that be,” Phitznder ? The
Weather, indeed;-may change on'a ſudden, and
"become colder, or warmer, upon ſeveral Acci-
dents; but ſeeing: the Sun keeps his conſtart
Courſe, the interim of a few Days can make 10
diſcernible Difference in the Length or Shortneſs
of the Evenings.

' Phil, O but here-is a Friend hath taught me

An Art for that, a Way to make Time longer or
ſhorter

Part Il. Conference. TE

ſhotter, at pleaſure; nay,(which |
perhaps will increaſe your Won- of - Log PETE
der) both theſe ſeeming Con- : |
+ traries ſhall be co-incident. A Man ſhall have
more Time to ſpend, and leſs to ſpare ; more
for his Uſe and Pleaſure, and none to be a Bur-
then to him. - WES NE;
| Bioph. Can Art do that? That is a noble Skill
indeed, (if it be poſſible ; ) to ſhorten a Man's
Time, and yet prolong his Life. Sure you ſpeak
Riddles : However, | pray, make me Partaker
of the Myſtery._. | |

Phil. Good Neighbour, there is no other Se-
cret in it but this: Good Company and profita-
ble Converſation redeem Time from Folly and
tmpertinency ; and ſs we really live longer, and
they alſo ſpend the Time very pleaſantly ; affd
ſo our Lives ſeem to be the ſhorter,

Bioph. That's pretty, I confeſs ; but I hall
rather it had been literally true.

Sebaſt. 1 believe Biophilus remembers a Prover-
bial Saying they have in JIraly to this purpoſe, He
that would bave a ſhort Lent, let him borrow Mont
ro be re-paid at Eaſter. So he that fore-caſts the
Account which every Man muſt one Day make,
how he hath expended the Time of this Life,
will not be apt to think the Term of it to be
byer-long. And he, cn the other ſide, who ims
proves his Time as he ought, and hath his Ac-
counts in readineſs, will not think the Day of
Reckoning too ſoon, or ſudden. |

Bioph. Very good again : Buf, nevertheleſs,
with your Pardon, Gentlemen, 1 ſhonld argue
the quite contrary from your >
Premiſes, For, it there be a NS n
Judgment to come, (as you are *

pleaſed

114 A Winter-Evening Part II.

pleaſed to ſuppoſe) and that a Man muſt ren-
der an Account of all his Aftions another Day ;
this, methinks, ſhould curdle all his Delights ;
and the very og of ſuch a Thing filling
him with perpetual Fears and Sollicitude about
it, muſt needs make Life very tedious to him.
But if there be no ſuch Thing to be feared here-
after, then Life will ſeem ſhort, becauſe it will
be ſweet and comfortable : And then alſo a Man
ſhall, in effeft, live a great while in a little time,
when there 1s nothing to diſturb his T houghts,
to impeach his Pleaſures, or interrupt the En-
joyment of himſelf.
Phil. Yes, even in the Caſe which you pur,
Death will be ſure to come ſhortly, and that
will ſpoil his Sport.
Bioph. That is very true, and very ſad: If
therefore you could find out a Remedy for that,
you would do ſomething to purpoſe. But when-
as you cannot but obſerve that there are ſeveral
ſorts of Brute Creatures that out-live Mankind,
(1 mean, though they know not what it is to
live, yet) they continue longer in the World,
and have as well a quicker Senſe of Pleaſure, as
a more unlimited and uncontrolled Enjoyment of
it ; in both which Reſpefts we have too great
Cauſe to envy their Happineſs. If Mankind, af-
ter all this, muſt be perpetually tormented too
with Suſpicions of what may come after, they
are doubly miſerable, and under the hardeſt
Fate of all Creatures.
— Sebaſt. That very Thing which you now ob-
ſcrve, is to me a very great Argument of what
you oppoſe. For, upon thoſe very Confidera-
tions, viz. that the Life of Man in this World is

ſhorter than that of ſome other leſs conſiderable
| Creatures,

Part II. Conference. 115

Creatures, and that the Pleaſure thereof is in-
terrupted alſo by the ExpeQation of the future ;
upon thoſe very Grounds ( ſay I ) there is great
Reaſon to believe that there is ſuch a Thing as
another World, wherein he may have Amends
made him for whatever was amiſs or defeCtive
here. For it is not credible with me, that ſuch
Power and Wiſdom as is plainly diſplayed in the
Conſtitution of Man, ſhould be ſo utterly deſti-
tute of Goodneſs, as to contrive Things ſo ill,
that the nobleſt Being ſhould be finally the moſt
unfortunate.

To which I muſt add, That therefore the Ap-
prehenſion of ſuch a Judgment to come as we
ſpeak of, neither is, nor can be mere Matter of
Dread and horrour, (as you ſeem to ſuppoſe; )
but is either terrible or comfortable, reſpe&ive-
ly to Men's Preparations for it. I |
cannot wonder if the Thoughts _ Of he different
of it do ſo fright and diſcom- EF hs
poſe Evil Men, fo that they her World.
could with all their Hearts wiſh
there was no ſuch Thing. Bur, moſt certainly,
to wiſe and vertuous Men, it is ſo far from be-
ing formidable, that contrariwiſe, the Hope of
it is the very Joy of their Hearts, the Support
of their Spirits, their greateſt Security againſt
all the croſs Accidents of this World, and, in a
Word, their Port and Sanctuary.

Bioph. Theſe are fine Sayings, Sebaſtian ; but
when you have faid all you can, and made the
beſt of the Caſe, when it comes to the Proof,
I do not find Men in love with Dying, nor to
have ſo comfortable an Opinion of that other
World you ſpeak of ; but that they could, with
all their Hearts, be content to quit their Intereſt

EA In

I16 A Winter-Evening Part If.

in the latter, ſo they might put off the former.
I remember once when I was preſent at an Exc-
cution, amongſt the reſt of the condemned Male-
faftors, there was one who either was ſo ſecure
of his own Innocency.,or ſo confident of the Suff-
ciency of his Preparations for Death, or, which
I rather ſuſpe@, fo elevated and tranſported
with the Harangues of the Prieſt, that he ſeem-
ed to long for his near-approaching End, and
pretended he would not exchange his Condition
for that of any of the Spectators there preſent :
But by and by comes the ſurprizing News of a
Pardon or Reprieve, and the poor Man was rea-
dy to leap out of his Skin for joy.

And I have often obſerved Men, who when
they have been deſperately ſick, and paſt all
hopes of Life, then ( as it is uſual with Men in
danger of drowning to catch hold of any thing
that offers it ſelf for their Support) to ſet a
good Face on the Matter, and ( as we ſay ) make
a Vertue of Neceſſity, and welcome the Ap-
proach of Death with feeming Courage and Con-
fancy : But in this Junfture, tet but a Phyſician
appear that gives them any Hopes of Recove-
ry, they preſently ſtart back from the Brink of
another World, as from an horrible Precipice,
and ſmile upon the Meſſenger that brings the
good Tidings of Life. I cannot ſee therefore
that Men do, indecd, believe themſctves in thts
. Matter.

Sebaſt. There is no doubt, Biophilizs, but that
( as you fay) ſome Men may talk only, and ſet
a good Face upon that which they have no com-
fortable Senſe of : And no wonder if ſuch Men's
Courage fails them when they have moſt uſe of

it ; for it is not imaginable that it ſhould be eaſe
to

Part II. Conference, I17

to brazen it out againſt Death. But this is no
more Reproach to true Faith in God, and Hopes
of another World, than it is to generous Cou-
rage and Valour, that now and then you ſhall -
ſee an huffing, ſwaggering HeCtor turn Recreant
when he is put toit in earneſt. It is acknow-
ledged to be very eaſie to brag and vapour when
no Danger is near ; but it requires real Bravery
to ſtand to it when a Man is briskly encounter»
ed : Now, as you will not fay there is no ſuch
thing as Valour, becauſe there are ſome Cowards
that pretend to it ; ſo neither (1 preſume) will
you think fit to ſuppoſe there is no Fajth, be-
cauſe there is ſome Hypocrifie. | |

Beſides, If you were as well ſatisfhed as I am,
or pretend to be, of the Truth of. that we are
diſcourling upon, namely, of another World ;
yet your Experience of the common Courſe of
Men's Lives would force you ,to acknowledge,
that even amongſt thoſe that do profeſs to\be-=
lieve ſuch a.,Thing, there are but very few who
appear. to. be habitually wel]. prepared for:{o
great a-Trialz and therefore no wonder if ſuc
Perſons be famewhat ſtartled and diſcompoſe
at an immediate- Summons, .and could be yery
glad to-bave further Day given them to make
up ſo great, an, Account. For, however, 2 to-
lerable Courſe. of Living may make a ſhift-to
ſupport a-Man's: Hopes, whilſt Death is looked
upon at adiſtance; yet when-it. comes to the
Point, that a\Man- muſt dig _indeed,-it is very
reaſonable. to expett, that ſuch, Men we now
ſpeak of ;ſhould. be not a little ſollicitous in ſuch
2 Concern,;.where they know. the Miſcarriage is
fatal, andthe beſt Provifon, poſſible will be lit-
tle enough. . ..... 0

7 I 3 But

118 A Winter-Evening Part Il.

Bnt notwithſtanding all this, there are cer-
tainly, and have been, ſundry Perſons in the
World, who though they have had the ſame Na-
tural Affection to themſelves, and to the preſent
Life with others, yet have as heartily wiſhed
and longed for the Great Day, as it was lawful
for them to do. They know ir is their Duty to
maintain the Station God has ſet them in, till
they have a fair Diſmiſſion 5 but bating "that
Canſideration, ' I doubt not but many a good
Man' would ſue ont his Cer eſt, and gladly
embrace an Opportunity of bidding Farewel to
the World:

* Bioph. You ſay well: But bow ſhall this Caſe
be decided ? Where may a Man find any ſuch
Perſon as you ſpeak of?

Sthaft. dhe 6,14 Joy have not heard any Man

PERS nn his Nunc dimittis ;, or if you
[x > pomar gl it may be'you would not

ra, believed him to be in ear-

feſt : But what think yon of -Sf. Paul; who pro-
feſles, he deſires 10 be difſoboed, and to' be with
Chriſt ? And particulatly, 2 Then iv. 7. he fore-
ſees a violent h approaching Him,” and up-
on that Occaſion I, by wiy of Conteinplation,
places himſelf, as it were, upon a* Promonto-
ry, where he could look backward and forward,
and take a View of both Worlds; att& when he
reflets upon that whith he was leaving; he finds
at he had diſcharged his Part well fand wor-
chily whilſt he wis in it ; /' hive fought the good
i, (faith he) 7 have finiſhed iy Comrſe, [
kepr the Faith.” - But then, when he looks
forward, and takes'a Proſpect 'of what was to
corne;- here he triumphs and exelts' with Joy ;
Yorgort ts laid up for me « Crown f Rip breouf-

neſs,

Part II, Conference, tlg

»eſs, which God the Righteous Fudge ſhall give me.
As if he had ſaid, © I know no Cauſe that 1
* ſhould either be aſhamed to live, or afraid to
© die: 1 have no Reaſon to be very fond of
* Life, who have met with ſo many Afictions
© init; yet I that have born them ſo undaunted-
* ly hitherto, can have as little Reaſan to leave
* the World now in a Pet of Impatience: But,
** upon the whole Matter, I fee great Advan-
© tage on the other Side; and the other World
* is as much better than the preſent, as Har-
** veſt is than Labour, as Victory than Battle ;
* and as being at home, than in Travel, and
* on a Journey.

Or what do you think of ſo many Thouſand
Martyrs, who have not only gone out of the
World with Smiles in their Faces, and Songs in
their Mouths, but have choſen Death when they
might have lived as freely, as happily, and as
long as other Men: They were not worn ont
with Age, nor vexed and wearied with Poverty,
nor diſtratted by any Diſaſter ; they had as ten-
der and ſenſible Conſtitutions as other Men, as
much Natural Affection to themſelves, and as
ſound Reaſon to judge what was beſt ; and yet
deſpiſed the preſent Life and World, in compa-
riſon of that to come.

Bioph. Nay, as for thoſe Men of old, which
you ſpeak of, I cannot tell what to make of
them : But I would fain ſee ſuch a Man now.

Sebaſt. I make no Queſtion but I could dire
you to ſuch Men now ; but it may be you will
nor believe they deſpiſe Death, becauſe yow ſee
them yet living. However, What think yoh of
the Man that hath the Bravery to deny himſelf
thoſe Profits and Pleaſures which other Men al-

I 4 low

120 A Winter-Evening Part II.

low themſelyes, ( ſo long as they ſee no Infamy
or External Danger attend them ? ) What think
you 'of the Man that dares to be vertuous in a
lewd Ape, and in evil Company ; and hath the
Courage and Proweſs toconfront a whole World
with his Example ? What think you of the Man
that ſits ſo looſe to the World, that he can bear
Proſperity without being ſupercilious, and Ad-
verfity without being dejeted ; that «can be in
want without repining, and can be liberal with-
out upbraiding ? Or, to ſay no more, What
think you of the Man that ſcorns to crouch and
ſneak, and paraſitically to humour and flatter
athers, for his Secular Intereſt or Security ? Such
Men as theſe are to be found in the preſent Ape :
And where-ever you find any ſuch Man, aſſure
your ſelf, there is a Perſon that believes himſelf,
or rather, that believes in God z and hath as real
2 Perſuaſion of the World to come, as other
Men have of that which they fee with their Eyes,
and touch with their Fingers.
' Bioph. | believe there are' ſome ſuch Men as
you ſpeak of; and I do account'themrn brave and
werthy Perſons : *But theſe Inſtances come not
up to the Point, foraſmuch as ſome of theſe
will quail at the Approach of Death, as is wel] as
other Men.
* Sebaſt, It may happen ſo, that a vertuous
Man'may be a little diſcompoſed at the rude'Al-
faults of Death, and yet without any Blemiſh
either to his Faith or Vertue : For, in the firſt
lace, you know all Men have a natural Love of
ife, 'and an Abhorrence of Death ; and from
hence may -proceed ſome ſudden Relu{tances,
becauſe it is neither within the power of Rea-

ton, nor is it the My of Religion, utterly to
exterminate

Part II. Conference. 127

exterminate and extinguiſh theſe firſt Motions ;
but to ſubdue and govern them, ſo as that a Man
may ( after ſome Conflict ) purſue the Choice of
his Mind notwithſtanding them ; and this latter
you ſhall ſee them perform.

' And then, beſides; you know there are ſome
Men of more timorous Natures than others ; in-
ſomuch that a great Meaſure of Vertue will not
do the ſame Thing in ſuch, as a leſſer Propor-
tion, aſſiſted by Hardineſs of Temper, will do
in others : For Nature will be Nature ftill ; and
therefore you ſhall obſerve, that even amongſt
thoſe that have no Apprehenſion of any thing to
come after Death, (if we may believe them-
ſelves) and ſo conſequently can have no Cauſe
of Fear ; yet will be tound thoſe that are as ti-
morous as thoſe that expeCft a Judgment to come.
Witneſs your Friend Mr. #.

Moreover, you cannot but be aware that a
violent Diſeaſe, or Pain, or any of thoſe Fore-
runners of Death, do ordinarily infeeble the
Operations of the Mind, as well as of the Body ;
and diſorder Men's Reaſon ſo, that it is hard to
pronounce of Men's Proweſs by the Combat they
then maintain: Therefore the ſureſt Way of de-
ciding this Matter is, that which I direCted you
to before ; namely, when you ſe a Man in his
full Strength, voluntarily and underſtandingly,
do that which will certainly draw Death after it ;
this hath certainly more Bravery and Self-denial
in it, more Contempt of Life and the World,
and more Argument of Hopes in another World,
than can be drawn from the Contingencies in the
very Agony of Death.

* Bioph, Well, perhaps it may be ſo: But for
God's ſake, Gentlemen, ler us wave this un-
- coinfort-

122 A Winter-Evening Part Il.

Of News ; and comfortable Subject. Come,

News-mongers ©- What good News is there ſtir-
poſed. ring ?

Phil. OSir, that is a prohibited Commodity
you enquire for ; neither of us deal in it..

Bioph. Nay, truly, for my part, I wiſh it had
been prohibited ſooner ; for there hath been ſo
much Knavery and Sophiſtication in it, that ſe-
veral well-meaning Men have been cheated of
their Peace, their Loyalty, and almoſt out of
their Wits too by it.

But ſo long as we are not bound to believe all
that we hear, we may hear what Men talk of,
for our Diverſion.

Sebaft. Hearing and telling of News ſeems to
me to be juſt ſuch another Diverſion as Tipling is:
And it is much the ſame thing whether a Man's
Head be full of Vapours, or of Proclamation :
Wind in the Brain makes Men giddy, as well as
Wine; and Men reel and ſtagger to and fro as
unſeemly by the Impulſe of uncertain Rumours,
as thoſe that are intoxicated with the ſtrongeſt
Liquors. Beſides, juſt as he that knows not how
to entertain himſelf at home, uſually applies
himſelf to the Tavern, or the Ale-houſe, for his
Relief; ſo it is the Cuſtom of idle People, and
fuch as are negligent of their own Afairs, to
buſie themſelves in Matters that do not belong
to them. | And there is yet another thing worſe
than all this; namely, whereas the Tavern-
Drunkard ſleeps and evaporates his Wine, and
comes to himſelf again, the Coffee-houſe-Drun-
kard ſcarcely ever clearly diſpels thoſe Vapours
of News that have filled his Crown.

Biaph. That is ſmartly ſpoken : But how-

ever, 2 Man ſhall look like a Male content yy
| the

Part II. Conference. 123

the Times, or, at leaſt, will ſeem to be uncon-
cerned for his Country, that wholly diſ-regards
News.

Sebaſt, With Reverence to publick Opinion, I
ſhould think the quite contrary in both Particu-
lars. For in the firſt place, it is notorious that
the Male-content is always liſtening after Novel.
ty ; and I cannot tell whether his Head be fuller
of little Stories, or of Maggots; whereas the
Man in good Humour, and contented, minds on-
ly his own Buſineſs, and lets it alone to God and
the King to govern the World.

And then for the other Particular, it is the
eaſieſt thing in the World to obſerve, that your
right News-monger cares not a Ruſh which End
goes forward, or whether the State of Things be
good or bad for his Country, ſo there be News

r his own Entertainment.

But after all, now I think better of it, I have
2 very remarkable Story to tell you: But you
are ſo great a Critick you will believe nothing,
and therefore I had as good hold my peace.

- Pioph. Nay, good Sebaſtian, Jet us have it :
You are a Perſon of good Intelligence, if you
wilt pleaſe to communicate.

Sebaſt. It is ſo very ſtrange Sebaftian's ſtrange
and wonderful News, that 1 AM» O _y
ſuſpe&t your Faith ; but yet it ————_
1s ſuch as puts me almoſt into an Ecſtacy every
time I think upon it.

Bioph, Do not tantalize vs with ExpeCta-
tion, whilſt you raiſe the Value of your Story,
nor tempt our Fancies to anticipate and de-
flower it.

. Sebaſt, Why then it is the Diſcovery and De-
ſcription of a certain Country, which is ( by =
lation

124 AW. inter-Evening Part IF.

lation) the very Garden and Paradiſe of the
whole World ; ſo tranſcendently admirable, that
Ttaly, Theſſaly, or whatſoever you have ſeen ar
heard of in all your Life, 1s nothing to it.

Bioph. Puh ! Who would have expected Fo-
reign News after ſuch a Preface? And all but
ſome Iſland of Pines, I warrant you ! Or ſuppoſe
it ſhould be true, what can \it be to us? How-
ever, go on Sebaſtian ; perhaps it may aftord us
ſome Diverſion.

Sebaſt. ] preſaged what Entertainment my
News would have with you. What can it be to
us, ſay you ? Why, when, you underſtand all,
you will bleſs your ſelf that there is ſuch a place
in the World, which you may go to if you pleaſe,
where you may find Retreat from all Troubles at
home, and be happy beyond Imagination : Nay,
let me tell you, you muſt, you will go to it if
you love your ſelf.

Bioph. You ſpeak at 2 ſtrange rate, Sebaſtian : :
a Man would think you. were either ſtrangely
impoſed upon your ſelf, or elſe that you had ve-
ry mean Apprehenſions of our Diſcretion. But
let it ſuffice to ſay, That,. ſoberly ſpeaking,
there is no Country upon the Face of the Earth

can deferve this Encomur. Belides, when all is
ſaid that can be ſaid, every Man's own Home is
his beft Country.

Sebaſt. Why, Do you not underſtand me 3
This which I am ſpeaking of, is, .or will be your
Home too, at leaſt if you will but take the pains
to travel thither.

Bioph, 1 marry, thank you for that : But I
wilt it is better to believe, than to go logk,, in
this Caſe. What ! change my Native Country,

tranſplant my ſelf at theſe. Years ! No, I am i
0

Part II. Conference. 2g

old, and have taken too deep Root where I am
for that.

Phil. Aſſure your ſelf, Biophilus, there is ſome-
thing extraordinary that Sebaſtian expreſſes him-
ſelf thus : He is no Hypochondriack, nor whim-
ſical Enthuſiaſt ; but a Man of the drieſt and beſt
tempered Underſtanding. |

Bioph. 1 have always thought no leſs, which
raiſes my Wonder now. Come, pray you, Se-
baſtian, tell us plainly what you have to ſay up-
on good Grounds, . concerning this Place which
you are in ſuch a Rapture about.

Sebaſt. In earneſt, Sir, I have to ſay all that
is poſſible to be ſaid, and much more than I can
expreſs.

Bioph. So it ſeems; for I perceive you are ſo
full of it, you cannot vent your ſelf; we muſt
therefore broach you by degrees. In the firſt
place, let me ask you, what is the Name of this
ſtrange Country ?

Sebaſt, It is called Vrana.

Bioph. A Romantick Name ! But, I pray you,
in what Longitude and Latitude is it ſituate, that
a Man may know where to find it, if he ſhould
have a Mind to go thither ?

Sebaſt. | am not skilful in that kind of Learn-
ing, neither do I remember that it was told Men,
in thoſe Terms, how the Country lies; but per-
haps this may tend to your Sa- :
tisfaction : I am aſſured that £ Far "4-25
they have no Night or Dark- bugs tl
neſs there, for the Sun never
goes off their Horizon ; nor are there any long
Evenings, and tedious Nights, which we com-
plain of in England. By this Character, I ſup-
poſe you may gueſs at the Latitude of the _
Bioph,

126 MA Winter-Evening PartII.

Bioph. Well, I will conſider of that at leiſure ;
in the mean time, tell us what is ſaid to be the
Temper of the Air.

Sebaſt. O Sir, the Air is ſweet and temperate
beyond Compare; it is ther, rather than Air;
there is neither violent Heat nor Cold, nodiſtin-
ion of Summer and Winter ; and indeed, no ſuch
things, but a perpetual Spring ; ſo that Flowers
bloſſom, and Fruit ripen all the Year long : And
by reaſon of this Serenity and Conſtancy of the
Air, the Country is ſo healthful, that there is
never any Epidemical or Reigning Diſeaſe, no
Man feeble and languiſhing z nay, not ſo much
as Wrinkles or gray Hairs upon any Man's Head
or Face, inſomuch that you would think the In-
habitants were all abſolutely immortal.

Bioph. If that one thing alone be true, I war-
rant you the Country wants no People.

Sebaſt. O very populous; yet, by reaſon of
its prodigious Fruitfulneſs, it can never be over-
ſtocked ; for, they ſay, it yields a freſh Harveſt
of all kind of Fruits every Month, and that a
moſt abundant one; foraſmuch as no Weeds,
nor Thorns and Briars grow there, bur only that
which is good for the Uſe of Man; and, whictt
is moſt of all wonderful, all this is brought
forth ſpontaneouſly, without the Toil and La-
bour of Man. |

They ſay alſo there are no kind of Wild Beaſts
there, either to affright and annoy the People,
or to devour the Fruits of the Land ; nay, not
ſo much as any Serpents, or other venomous
Creatures, or tronbleſome Inſefts: And all this
is owing to the Clemency of the Air, the pecu-
liar Nature of the Soil, together with God":

Bleſſing upon both.
Bioph.

Part IT. Conference. 127

Bioph. I perceive a Man may eat well z and
when he hath ſo done, may ſleep in a whole Skin
there ; that I like, and I would to God it were
not a Romance which you give us, But go on,
Sebaſtian : What 1s the Polity and Government
of the Country ?

Sebaſt. The Government is perfeftly Monar-
chical, and the Prince is Abſolute ; yet I do not
hear that any of his Subjefts wear wooden Shooes,
or feed upon Cabbage ; but all of them enjoy
their Liberty and Property as ſecurely and fully
as in any Commonwealth in the World.

There is no ſquabbling about Privileges, no
interfering between Prerogative and Immunities,
Dominion and common Right : The King com-
mands what he will, and the People willingly
obey him ; for his Wiſdom and Goodneſs mo-
derate his Will and Power, better than all the
Boundaries of written Laws.

And this I am informed of too, That though
there be ſeveral Degrees of Subjefts, as there
are amongſt us, becauſe otherwiſe there could
be no ſufficient Encouragement to Induſtry,
nor no Capacity in the Prince to ſet Marks of
Favour upon thoſe that deſerve extraordinarily
of him; yet from hence ariſe no Emulations
amongſt the Nobility, nor any Oppreſlion of
the Commons : The People do not envy and
murmur againſt the Great Ones ; nor, on the
other ſide, do they, as greater Fiſh, devour the
leſſer.

Bioph. A rare Temper of Government this !
and not leſs admirable than that of the Air
you ſpake of before : You amaze me ſtrangely.
But what are the Staple Commodities of the

Country ?
Sehaft.

12 3 A WW, inter-Evening Part IE

Sebaſt. As for that, you muſt. know, it is not
with Urania, as with moſt other Countries ;
where uſually one Province abounds with what
another wants, and the other needs what that
can ſpare; and ſo there is a Neceſlity of Reci-
procal Intercourſe between them, both to re-
lieve their Necefſities mutually, and to diſcharge
their Superfluities : And herein, yon know, lies
both the Reaſon of Trade, and the Security of
Alliances between ſeveral Countries in our Parts
of the World. But now Urania being ( as was
wont to be ſaid of Egypt ) a Country ſelf-ſuffi-
cient, depends not at all upon Foreign Com-
merce ; and therefore, as it needs nothing from
abroad, fo conſequently it ſends out few or none
of thoſe Commodities it abounds with ; but ra-
tlier (as I ſhall tell you by and by ) invites Fo-
reignersto come over tothem, and reſide amongſt
them, and ſo to partake freely of the Advanta-
ges of that happy Land.

Yet I muſt tell you, they have very great Ra-
reties in thoſe Parts, and ſuch as are exceeding-
ly deſired by all other People that underſtand
the worth of them: As, in particular, to ſpeci-
fie ſome few, which are not at all to be found
any where elſe.

In the firſt place, They have the true Elixir
Vite, a very precious Balm, far beyond that of
Gilead, that perfeftly cures all Diſeaſes, both
inward and outward, I had almoſt ſaid of Body
and Mind. This operates without any Pain to
the Patient ; and in outward Applications, heals
all kind of Wounds, and leaves no Scar or Mark
behind it. |

They have alſo an admirable Water, which

ſo quickens all the Senfes, and peculiarly the
Sight,

Part II.: .. Conference. : - 129

Sight, that-a Man by the help of it ſhall ſee fur-
ther than by a Teleſcope, and pierce into the
very Secrets of Nature.

The common Food of the Country is ſome-
what anſwerable to the Deſcription of ſama z
and hath that peculiar Taſte which every Man
affefts, and ſatisfies all the Powers of Nature.
They have alſo a delicious Wine, called Lachry-
me Chriſti, which, amongſt other Vertues, makes
Men forget all Sorrows whatſoever : And this
they uſually drink in an Amethyſt Cup, which
preſerves them from Sirfeits or Intemperance,
what proportion ſoever they drink.

Amoneglt the reſt, they have a fort of Vitre,
ſo very powerful and abſterſive, that it takes
away all Spots, Blemiſhes and Aſperſions, and
makes thoſe that uſe it ſo very beautiful, that
they raviſh the Eyes of Bcholders.

It were endleſs to go about to enumerate the
Commodities of this Country, which clearly
out-goes the Holy Land, though it was ſaid that
in Solomon? Days Gold and Silver were there
as common as the Stones of the Street. And
for proof of it, the Inhabitants are generally
fo rich and proſperous, that there is not one
poor Man in the whole Land ; not one to be
found that doth need, or will ask an Alms. The
Hungry and Naked, thoſe grievous Spettacles,
(too fadly common in moſt other Places ) are
not to be ſeen there; of which, amongſt other
Cauſes, theſe are aſſhgned, viz. There is no for-
did and cruel Mer there, who hoards up what
others ſhould live upon; nor is there any waſte-
ful Glutton or Epicure, who devours his own
and other Folks Portion too. In ſhort, chey ſay,
all delirable things are there ia ſuch abundance,

that

130 AA IWinter-Ewvening Part II.

that every Man is as rich, as full, and as happy
as he pleaſes.

Bioph, If all this was poſſible to be true, which
I muſt beg your Pardon to declare 1 have not
Faith enough to; believe, yet the Felicity of this
Country could not be long-liv*d ; for it will cer-
tainly derive upon it ſelf the Envy of all its
Neighbours; and the Effet of that will be, that
thoſe who have the beſt Iron will quickly become
Maſters of all this Wealth.

Sebaſt. Nay, Biophilus, as for that there is
no Danger ; for the Country is altogether inac-
ceſſible, ſave only by one narrow Way ; and
that is ſo well guarded and deferided, that to
this Day no Enemy hath ever had the Confidence
to aſlail it. And beſides all, the Inhabitants are
in fuch perfeft Peace and Amity one with ano-
ther, and maintain fo inviolably their Alle=
glance towards their Sovereign, that as no Fo-
reigner hath any Encouragement to enterprize
upon them by Treachery, ſo neither can he,
without mighty Folly, think himſelf confidera-
ble enongh to prevail by Force againſt ſuch an
united Strength.

Bioph. Now you ſpeak of that, I pray give me
leave to ask you one Queſtion more : What 13 the
Humour of the People, both amongſt themſelves,
and towards Strangers ?

Sebaſt, That is as admirable in its kind as
any thing I have told you yet. The Com-
plexion of the People is ſaid to be univerſally
Sangvine ; and conſequently, they are ſprightly
and cheerful, ingenious and complaiſant, open-
hearted, and yet grave; without Fraud, and
without Jealouſic ; they neither intend any Hurt,

nor do they ſuſpect any. Amongſt other In-
ſtances

Part Il. Conference. 134

ftances of their ſedate Cheerfulnefs; they are
exceedingly addicted to Muſick ; and their | Ba
are obſerved to be compoſed, for the moſt part,
in praiſe of their Prince, the Splendour of his
Court, the Glory of his Atchieyments, and the
Felicity of his Reign. |

So far are they from Wrath and Choler, that
in the Memory of Man there hath not been one
Law-Suit commenced amongſt them; and, which
15 more, not one Theological Diſputation, which
uſually are attended with ſo much Heat and Ani-
moſity in theſe Parts of the World. But as for
Tale-bearers, Whiſperers, Back-biters, and all
that melancholy and envious Brood, there is not
one of them to be found in al] the Country ; e-
very Man there loves his Neighbour as himſelf;
and 1s as tender of his Intereſt and Reputation
as of his own.

And then, for their Temper and Carriage to-
wards Strangers, they are infinitely civil and
obliging : they deride not other Men's Habit,
or Mein, or Language, or Cuſtoms, or Com-
plexions ; but contrariwiſe, whenſoever any
ſuch come amongſt them, they welcome them
heartily, treat them with all Inſtances of Hoſpi-
tality, and by all poſſible Obligations and In- |
dearments, invite them to become one People
with themſelves, and, as much as in them lies,
are ready to contribute their Aſſiſtance towards
their Voyage.

Bioph. This is a very ſtrange Relation as ever
I heard in my Life: But, in plain Engliſh, it
ts too good to be true. All this can amount to
no more than to fome UVropia, or new Atlan-
tis, Pardon my Freedom, good Sebaſtian: |
acknowledge you & wiſe and a karned Gentle-

K 2 man,

132 A Winter-Evening Part IE.

man ; that Character all the World allows you :
But in this particular Story, ſome Body hath un-
worthily abuſed your good Nature ; for it can
” no better than a Fiftion, a Legend, a mere
Flam.
Sebaſt. You do not ordinarily think a Man
RANG bound to warrant the News he
cvaman re:ates tells you, but you uſed to be
—_—_ Ar ans to take it as he hath
WF & 0
Story. it; and Iam ſure you will not
atlow me to preſcribe to you
what you ſhall believe. However, I aſlure yov,
upon the Word of a Gentleman, and a Chri-
ſtian, I have not deviſed it of my own Head,
but am as well ſatisfied of the Truth and Reali-
ty of the Relation I have made to you, as it is
poſſible for me to be of any thing which I have
not ſeen with my Eyes; and I am very confident
I have as good Grounds for my Perſuaſion, as
It is fit for a diſcreet Man to require in ſuch a
Caſe.

Bioph. I wiſh you could ſatisfie me as well : 1
pray therefore do us the favour to let us know
what Probabilities you go upon in this Matter.

Sebaſt, They ſay, we Engliſh-men (above all
People ) love to be cheated, and encourage Im-
poſtors by our Credulity. But if that be the
Humour of our Country-men, I muſt beg their
Pardon if I a little vary from them in that Par-
ticular. I confeſs I am not ſo ill-natured, as to
ſuſpe@ that every Body I converſe with hath
Deſigns upon me ; nor yet am I ſo ſupinely ſoft
and credulous, as to be at every Body*s Mercy ;
or ſo greedy of News, as to ſwallow all that
comes, without chewing. And, as to the Buli-

neſs before us, I poſitively affirm te you, 1 =
| this

Part H. \ Conference. | 133

this ſtrange Relation (as you eſteem it) from
one that came from the Place, and was an Eye-
witneſs of what he reported, and therefore
could not be deceived himſelf in what he re-
lated. And then, his Quality was ſuch, as that
he could have no Intereſt to impoſe upon me
therein; for he was no leſs a Man than the
only Son of the Great Monarch of the Coun-
try; and he came as Ambaſllador-Extraordina-
ry from the King, his Father, | on; purpoſe to
invite and incline our People to participate of
that happy Region, and of all the admirable
Advantages aforeſaid ; and aflured us, That all
which came- ſhould be Free Denizons of U-
Yarld, Lond#

Bioph. Ay, good Sebaſtian ;, he told you fo :
But how are you ſure he was not an Impoſtor ;
and deſigned to put Tricks upotyou, ahd our
good-natured Country-men ?

Sebaſt. As for that, his very Perſon and Mien
ſpake for him ; both which were fo Auguſt and
Grand, as that no mean Man could bear out the
Port he uſed. Beſides this, he came not in a
Clancular Way, but made his Publick Entry ;
and his Train and Equipage was Grave.and Ma-
jeſtick, like himſelf, far beyond the empty Pomp
and Pageantry of a Counterfeie. His Commil-
fron and Letters Credential alſo- were publickly
feen, read, and allowed ; and they were ſealed
with ſuch a Seal, as no Wit of Man could imi-
tate, or counterfeit.

Add unto all this, I have ſeen the Map or
Chart of the Country, I have peruſed the Di-
geſt of the Laws of the Kingdom, theſe Eyes
| have read the Records of their Hiſtory, and
with this Mouth I have tailed the delicious F _
1 hk 3 O

134 A Winter-Ewening Patt II,

of the Land. What would you have more to
juſtifie the Matter of Fat ? |

' Bioph, What would 1: have more }? Why, ]
think yoo venture too great 2 Stock in one Bot-
tom : { would not truſt to any ane Man, what-
ſoever he were, in a Relation .of this nature ; [
ſhould require to ſee and ſpeak with many about
it, before [ would believe it.

Sebaſt. You ſay well, But can you think it

reaſonable to require, that fo great a Prince
ſhould ſend' many Ambaſlladors on ſuch an Er-
rand, when he aims not at. his own Greatneſs,
or the Accominodating of: his own Afffairs, nor
hath any need of our Alliance or Aſſiſtance ; but
mere]y deſigns our Benefit ? Or can you expect
that he ſhould fend every Day freſh Envoys; and
that nat only to whole Countries, but to-every
individual Perfon too ? And if you could ima-
gine ſuch a Prince ſhould condeſcend to this al-
fo, can yon Think it would þe eafie to find many
fir Perſdns for ſuch a purpoſe, who would be
willing to forſake the Glories of ſuch a Court,
or the Contentments of Home in ſuch a Region ;
and to expoſe themſelves to the Difficulties and
Hazards of Travel, as well as to the Change of
Air and Diet, and a Thouſand other Inconve-
niences attendant upon ſuch an Expedition ?
No, Biophilu; it was an Inſtance of wonderful
Goodneſs, that ſuch a Prince ſhould ſend'one Am-
baſſador an fach an Errand'; and admirable Cha-
rity and Self denjal in him that undertook and
performed it. -

Bioph. You fpeak Reafon, I muſt acknowledge,
in that Particular. 'But yet l can never believe,
that if there were any ſuch Country as your In-
telligence amounts to, it ſhould lie undilcoyered

Part IT, Conference, 135

to theſe Parts:of the World until now. What !
Drake, C andiſh; Columbus, Davis, -- none of
them, in all their Travels, take notice of ſach
a Place ; nor give the leaſt Intimation of it, un-
til now.

Sebaſt. That is no ſuch ſtrange thing as you
make it ; if you call to mind how long a time
it was before the World would believe there
were Antipodes, and yet it is plain that fo long
one full half of the World was unknown to the
other. Or, if you remember, that Time was,
( and that not an ignorant Ape neither ) when
the Roman Empire was thought to embrace the
whole Earth, which as now we are certain took
not in one Fifth ( perhaps not one Tenth) of
it. Do you not know that Mercules*s Pillars
were accounted the Boundaries of Humane Tra-
vels ; and that, for a great many Ages, both the
Torrid and the Frigid Zones ( as they are cal-
led ) were eſteemed uninhabitable z and all that
time the World was ignorant of it (elf ? Beſides,
you know it is not very long fince thoſe vaſt
Tracts of Land, the We#t- nates, were firſt dil-
covered by ſome of the Perſons you have named.
And, to fay no more, I pray, how many Apes
palled over the Heads of Mankind, before this
our Native Country of Britain ( as conſiderable
aSit is, and we juſtly eſteemir) came into any
Knowledge or Conſideration with the reſt of the
World ? Think it not ſtrange therefore if Ura-
mia was {0 lately diſcovered.

Bioph, But that which I principally intended
to ſay, was this: You afford me Matter of great
Wonder, that you ſhouid be ſo much concern-
ed for a Place very newly diſcovered (if it be
diſcovered ; ) but eſpecially, that you ſhould be-

K 4 lieve

136 AW inter-Evening Part W.
lieve ſo many ſtrange things of it, before ' a-
ny one perſon hath gone from hence, and re-
turned hither again, to confirm thoſe Reports
of it.

Sebaſt. Ifs and Exceptions are endleſs ; ; and I
know no Way to make a Man believe, that hath
no Mind to it : Yet I will give you all the Sa-
tisfaction I am able, and that which 1 think is
ſufficient in ſuch a Caſe. You muſt know there-
fore that this Country hath not been wholly un-
diſcovered until now, as you ſuppoſe ; for I my
ſelf have ſeen a Book of great Authority and
Antiquity, which, though fomewhat obſcurely
and fhpuratively written, yec certainly pointed
at ſuch a Place, and in ſome meaſure deſcribed
it too, to him that attentively read and conli-
dered it, [And beſides, there are ſome very cre-
dible Relations copcerning ſorite certain Perſons,
that have heretofore ' made very fortunate Voy-
apes thither.

But as to that you obje@, that no Man
hath gone 'from hence thither, - and returned
again to vs, to bring us the 1 idings ; > you will
eaſily ſatisfie your ſelf thercin, if you conſider
what I intimated before, viz. That thoſe who
once get thither, can have no Inclinations to
make a Change ſo much to their diſadvan-
rage, as it muſt needs be for them to return
hither again. Beſides, Though they ſay the
Paſlage is not very long thither, yet it is no
common Road ; and therefore very few will
(at leaſt unneceſſarily) undertake ir.

| Pal. But if it be an untraced
FL, _— Path, how ſhali a Man find the
> Miva Way thither, if he have a'Mind

Tanids
to Bo"! by
- S2h aſt,

;

Part Il. ' Conference. 137

Sebaſt. O Philander ! There is' no great diffi.
culty in that, if a Man be well reſolved on the
Buſineſs; for, beſides a Chart, and very pun-
tual Inftruftions which the Ambaſlador left be.
hind him for that purpoſe when he was amongſt
us, there are great ſtore of very skilful and faith-
ful Guides and Pilots, who freely offer their Ser-
vice, and will not fail, with God*s Bleſſing, to
land us fafe there. |

Phil, 1 cannot tell what Biophilus thinks of
this Buſineſs ; But, for my part, Sebaſtian, I am
ſo raviſhed with your Relation, that if there be
ſuch a Place in the World, I-will find it out, by
God's Help. I thank God, I am. no Male-con-
tent, either with: my Native: Country, cr my

private Fortunes; yet I ſee no Reaſon we ſhould,

like Muſhrooms, live and die upon the ſame
Spot, and be a mere Acceſſio Soli, or Heir-lomes

to the Place where we happened to be born;

eſpecially if we may thus much mend our ſelves
by the Change. I am a Citizen of the World ;
aud that ſhall be my Country, where I can fare
beit.

But will yol'Fo with me, Sebaſtian ? Then 1
ſhall net only be cur of all Doubt of the Truth
of your Narrative, when l ſee you ſo far believe
it your ſelf, as to adventure all upon it ; but I
ſhall with much more Cheerfujneſs change my
Country, when I do not change my Friend, nor
fore-go your Company.

Sebaſt. Obligingly ſpoken, and bravely reſol-
ved, Philander : By God's Grace, I will go with
you; and to allure you of my Intentions, I will
now acquaint you that I have been this good
while in ſetting Things in order, and in making
Preparations for the Voyage.
ad. Phil,

i2z3s A Winter-Ewening | Part ll.

Phil. But how ſhall we diſpoſe of our Eſtates
here? And what Commadities had we beſt to
furniſh our ſelves with, to carry over with us ?

Sebaſt. As for the Diſpoſal of qur preſent For-
tunes, I can tell you, there are very {ure Returns
betwixt this Country and that ; for the Prince
himſelf will be your Security, if you put your
Effects into ſuch Hands as he hath appointed.
But as for Merchandiſe to carry with us, there
will be no need of that ; for the Country which
we have in our Eyes ſo glorioully rich and plen-
tiful, the Prince is ſo noþle and benign, and all
the Inhabitants ſo kind and charitable, that we
ſhall be (are, as ſaon as ever- we come there, to
be furniſhed grer/s with all that.our Hearts can
wiſh. - And, moreover, if we ſhould put our
ſelves ta the trouble of tranſporting aur Baggage
with us, it would not only iacumber us in our
Journey, but would alſo ſeem to be ſuch mere

raſh and Lymber when we. come there, that
we ſhould he aſhamed of it, and of our felves
Loo, for ſetting ſuch a Value upon it.

But there 1s another thing, and much more
material, which I muſt reeds &1} you of, in or-
der to our more favourable Reception when we
come there ; that is, we muſt before -hand quite
alter our Habit and Garhb, and not fo much as
{mell of the Earth we came from. Amongft 0-
ther things, we muſt diſ-uſe our ſelves from O-
nions and Garlick, and from Fleſh too, that we
may the eaſier accord with the Diet of the Coun-
try: And we muſt refine our Spirits, that we may
be fit to breath in that pure Air : And having ſo
dane, there needs no more but to-carry with us
great Minds, and large Souls, to qualitie us, both
for the Society and Enjoyments there. py

il,

Part Il. Conference. 39

Phil. Thank you, dear Friend, and Fellow-
Traveller, (for ſo I will henceforward tile you)
for theſe InſtraCftions : I will uſe the beſt of my
Endeavours to be -fitted accordingly. But is
there any thing elſe that I need to be advi-
ſcd in?

Sebaſt. O, yes; there is one thing more which
] doubt you do not think of ; and I am ſomewhat
afraid leſt the Mention of it ſhould diſcourage
you ; but it muſt be, and there is no avoiding It.

Phil. In the Name of God, what is it ? Miſ-
truſt not my Courage or Conſtancy : Pll ſtick
at nothing that croſſes my Way to Vrene.

Sebaſt. Yau remember I have intimated to
you already, that when we come at the Coun-
try we delign, we ſhall be immortal, we can ne-
ver die afterwards; but we muft die before-
hand, or we ſhall never come thither. This is
the Pinch of the Buſineſs : What think you of it
now, Philander ?

Phil, Never the worſe for that, *cllow-Tra-
veller. But, Good Lord ! What a Dream have
I been in all this while ? I thought verily you
had ſpoken Hiſtorical Truth of fome rare Earti-
ly Country : But now my Eyes are open, and I
perceive you mean Heaven ; that's the Uranis
you have all this while amuzed us with. Now
I can unriddle the whole Buſineſs : I have now
a Clue to guide me through the Maze of your
Diſcourſe, and can decypher all the Figures you
have uſed. I am ſure *tis Heaven only can an-
fwer the Character you have given : That is the
Place where there is no Pain, Sickneſs, nor
Death ; there is no Night nor Darkneſs, but a
perpetual Day ; there is to be found the true
Balſam that cures ll the Diſtempers and
Wounds

140 A Winter-Evening Part Il.

Wounds, both of Body and Mind ; there are to
be had all the other Rareties which -you have
mentioned ; Jeſus Chriſt is the Ambaſſador from
God Almighty, that invites us thither : All is
plain and eaſje now. How dull was I, that I
could not underſtand you ſooner !

Bioph., And have you drolled with vs all this
while, Sebaftian ? Have you wheedled me back
again into the Subje&t I declined ? Is your fa-
mous Vramia in another World ? I thought your
News was impoſſible to be true, and now you as
good as confeſs it. |

Sebaſt. By your Pardon, Biophilus, have I done
you' any Wrong ? You asked for News, and I
have told you good and true News ; News of
more Importance, and more comfortable, than
any the Coffee-houſe affords ; not il]-natured

] Stories of Whig and Tory, nor Surmizes about
France and Italy, Turk and Count Teckeley ; but
a great Truth of a Kingdom that cannot be ſha-
ken, a Kingdom wherein there is Righteouſneſs
and Juſtice, Unity and Joy, Love and Good
Will, Everlaſting Peace, and Everlaſting Life ;
a State of that Felicity, that it is able to make
us weary of this World, and to render the Time
of our Life tedious to us, tiil we come to the En-
joyment of it; in a Word, that is ſufficient to
make all the Ways of Vertue ſeem eaſie and de-
letable, and even Death it ſelf deſirable in the
Way thither. |

What think you of it, Philander, now you un-
dertand what Country it is | perſuaded you to ?
Doth your Mind hold for the Voyage ? Will you
20 on with your Preparations for it, as we were
diſcourſing before ? Will you venture to ſhoot

/ the Gnlph, that you may arrive at it ? l
Phil.

Part IE. Conference. I41

Phil. Yes, Fellow-Traveller, I hold my Reſo-
lution. For, though | find I was
miſtaken in the Particular, yet Bn gue
not in the general; it was an
Farthly Paradiſe that I had in _—_— of
my Thoughts all the while you
were diſcourſing figuratively to us, and I had no
other Apprehenlions of your Deſign ; and there-
in Biophilzs was more in the right han I, who
was confident there could be no ſuch Country i in
this World as you deſcribed: but 1 heartily thank
you for the Deception ; you have cheated us into
our own Advantage. And now that | underſtand
you, I do not change my Courſe, though I change
my Port; I hope | ſhall not be ſo abſurd, as to
be more in earncſt for an Earthly Country, than
for an Heavenly,

Who would not gladly be at Everlaſting Reſt,
and in an unchangeable Condition ? We are but
Pilgrims and Strangers in this World; but there
we ſhall be at home, and in our Father's Houſe :
Here we are continually toſſed with Winds
and Seas, tormented betwixt Hopes and Fears ;
there we come into Harbour, and ſhall be ſafe
as upon a Rock, ſtable and ſetled 2s the Moun-
rains.

Who can chuſe but wiſh to live for ever,
and would not be contented to die once, that
he might be out of the reach of Chance or Dan-
ger for ever after ? Everlaſting Life ! What an
Ocean of Joy and Felicity is contained in it !
It puts me into an Ecſtacy to think of it ! Sure-
ly he doth not love himſelf, or doth not under-
ſtand himſelf, who would not gladly leave an
uncertain, troubleſome, quarrelſome, fooliſh,

diſputing, ſuſpicious, envious World , _
ar

142 A Winer-Evening Part Il.

far caſter Terms than the Attainment of it. But
to live with the Ever-bleſfed Jeſus, to ſpend E-
ternity in the Society of good and wiſe, kind and
peaceable Men, to enter into everlaſting Friend-
ſhips, inviolable Peace, unchangeable Felicity ! 1
_— and tranſported with the Thoughts
OI It.

When once I had the Hhappinefs to take no-
tice of a poor Man, blind from his Mother's
Womb, who never had ſeen the Sun, nor could
have any Notion of Beanty or Colours, aor of
any of that Variety of delightful Objefts which
the Eye and Light preſent to us, and entertain
us with z when afterwards, (I ſay ) by a ſttange
Cure, this poor Man had his Eyes opened, and
found a Crowd of new Delights preſs in upon
him, he thought himſelf ſurrounded with Mi-
racles, and was almoft diſtrafted with Wondes.
And certainly, no leſs, but a great deal more,
will our Surprize be when we come to Heaven ;
where, probably, we fhall have new Powers
opened, which ſhall dfrover ſuch Glories to ns
as we were not capable of perceiving before, if
they had been preſented to us : But moſt cer-
tainly we ſhall then have new Objefs of De-
' light to entertain thoſe Powers we have , and
thoſe tranſcendent to all we ever had Experience
of before.

Or when I think of the Children of //rae!s
firſt Coming out of Egypt, where they had lived
for ſome Hundreds of Years in the Condition of
Slaves, under the jealous Eye of a barbarous
Prince, treated with Hardſhip and Severity,
and expoſed to all the Indignities, Inſolences
and Cruelty of a faithlefs and ingrateful People

and then, after this, ( leaping, as we ſay, wa”
0

ha wand —— pa— a «4 dts — —— Py

MA. ak

Part Il. Conference. 143

of the Frying-pan, into the Fire) were carried
into a vaſt and howling Wilderneſs; and there
ſpending Forty. Years more, amidſt Seas and
Mountains; in danger of Wild Beaſts, and be-
ſet with Enemies; having no City of Refuge,
no Strong-Holds, no Friends, no Allies, no -
Comfort or Supplies, but fram Hand to Mouth :
When (1 ſay) theſe poor People arrived at laſt
at the Promiſed Land, the Land of Canaan, a
Land of Olive-yards and Vine-yards, a Land
flowing with Milk and Honey, and the Glory of
all Lands, and found themſelves peaceably poſ-
ſeſled of it, under their own God, their own
Prince, 2nd their own Laws; and flowing in
ſuch Plenty of all good Things, that they now
became the Admiration and Envy of all their
Neighbours, who had been the Subject of their
Contempt and Scorn before; I can bur fanſe
how they were aſtoniſhed at the Change, what
a Wonder they were to themſelves: And I am
apt to believe, that for ſome time after they
conld not but faſpedt they were under a pleaſant
Illuſion of Fancy, and that a!l their Felicity was
no better than a Dream.

So, aſluredly, when we ſhall firſt come to Hea-
ven, our ſpiritual Canes, to the Enjoyment of
an Happineſs of God's preparing, who hath all
the Ingredients of Felicity in his power, and in-
finite Wiſdom to contrive and compound them,
2nd unſpeakable Goodneſs to beſtow them ; and
who, as the Scripture expreſks it, hath, from
the Beginning of the Workd, been deſigning and
preparing ſnch a Syſtem of Joy and Felicity, as
may at once both moſt delight his Creatures,
and difplay all his aforeſaid Attributes : When
(I ſay ) we ſhall firſt obſerve the ſtrange Change

between

144 A Winter-Evening Part IF.

between a narrow, ſtingy, neceſſitous, unquier,
fickly, peeviſh, and contentious World, which
we have left behind ns, and the Settlement and
Peace, Plenty and Glory of that we enter up-
on ; it will not be eaſte for us ( without larger
Minds than we have now ) to know how to be-
have our felves ; we ſhall be apt to be oppreſſed
with Wonder, and, if it were poſlible, to die
with Exceſs of Joy.

. Sebaſt. You ſpeak bravely, and ſenſibly, dear
Phil. You ſeem to have gone up to Mount
Nebo, and to have fed your Eyes with the
Proſpect of the Holy Land : But have you
conſidered the Difficulties of the Way, as well
as the Happineſs of the Journeys End ? Will
you not, like the 1/raelites, ( you ſpake of even
now) repent, and bethink your ſelf of turn-
ing back when you encounter Difficulty or
Danger ? Will not Death affright you when ir
appears.in all its diſmal Pomp ? Will you not
ſhrink when you ſhall come to be ſtripped na-
ked of all your Worldly Habiliments * Will
you not have a Lingring after your old Ac-
commodations, your fine Rouſe, rich Furni-
tures, pleaſant Gardens, ſprightly Wines, or
any other Pleaſures and Entertainments of the
Body ?

Phil. No, no, Sebaſtian ;, | will go to Hea-
ven, whatever come of it, What can diſcotte
rage a Man when Heaven is at Stake? If
the Journey put me to a little Trouble, there
is Reſt at the End of it. What is it to exer-
ciſe a little Patience, when a Man ſhall be
crowned at Jaſt? Who would not run, ſtrive,
do, or ſuffer any thing, and venture all, upon
ſuch a Wager ?

Shall

Part IT. Conference. 146

Shall 1 be frighted with Death ? That will
come however ; and I am ſure ee” wi
the negletting Eternal Life is |,” para
not the Way to eſcape it. ;

Shall I be follicitous for my Eſtate and World-
ly Accommodations, when | know, whether [
go to Heaven or no, | muſt ſhortly leave them.
all behind me ? And ſurely, if they cannot ſave
me from Death, they ought not to hinder me
of Eternal Life.

Or ſhall I hanker after Onions and Garlick,
and the Fleſh-pots of Egypr, as you called the
pleaſures of the Body, which will certainly for-
ſake me, if I do not forſake them firſt ? No, f
have counted the Coſt, there is nothing ſhall diſ-
courage me by the Grace of God; I will go to
Heaven. But, I pray, let us not part Compa-
ny ; let ns go to Heaven together.

Sebaſt. With all my Heart; dear Friend ; for,
though I doubt we muſt not ex- ©
pet much Company with - us, _
yet perfect Solitude is ſomewhar . vp
uncomfortable ; and there are |
great Advantages of Society. For, if any Body
ſhould be ſo abſurd as to laugh at us on our Jour-
ney, we can the better deſpiſe them. - If either
of us ſhonld happen to be heavy and weary in
our Way, we may animate and quicken one ano-
ther. If any Difficulty befall, that may be too
hard for any one of us, by out united Strength.
we may be able to encounter and refnove it, 1
either of us ſhould ſwerve a little ont of the
Narrow Way, towards the Right Hand, or to-
wards the Left, the other may re-call and re&j-
he him. Beſides, the great additional Comfort
It will be when we come at our Journeys End,

L not

146 A Winer-Evening Part IT.

not only that we ſee one another happy, and en-
joy one anothers Snciety ; but eſpecially when
we refleft upon the good Service we have done
to one another in bringing each .other thither,
we ſhall have our Joys re-doubled by the Refle-
tion, and feel not only our own individual
Shares, but that alſo of each other.

Phil. Happily thought of, Fellow-Traveller.
But will not Biophilzs go with us too ? What ſay
you, Sir !

Bioph. You are honeſt Gentlemen, and my

* HT good Friends : But, Lord, What
Seepypiſn diſplay Romances do you make ! What
= ded Caſtles do you build in the Air !
ber Reaſm. | ,, And what Shadows do you feed

.._ hour ſelves withal ! You talk of
Heaven as confidently as if you had travelled an
Hundred Times through all the Regions of it ;
or rather, indeed, as if you had vilited the World
in the Moon, But when all is done, did ever
you, or any Body elſe, ſee fuch a Place as Hea-
ven ? For God's fake, therefore, leave theſe En-
thuſiaſtical Whimhies, and talk like Men ; Speak
of ſomething that is certain and vifible, or pro-
bable at leaſt ; and do not fore-go Subſtance
for Shadows, Certainties for Uncertaintics.

Phil. God help you, good: Neighbour, in re-
quital of the Caution you give us. Aſlure your
ſelf; we have the ſame Senſes, and the fame Selt-
love that you have; and only wiſh you had the
ſame Faith that we have, We.are not willing to
part with Certainties for /Uncertainties ; for if
| Heaven be not certain, we are ſure nothing elle
is. And as for the Things. of this. World, they
are ſo far from it, that Bothing -is more certain,

than that we muſt part with them ſhortly, whe-
ner

Part II. Conference, 147

ther we will or no. But as for the other World,
we know whom we have believed.

Bioph. I tell you, all is but Dream and Fancy ;
there is no Proof in the World for ir. All you
have to ſay is, that Men muſt believe: As if you _
ſhould ſay, Shut your Eyes, and ſee; you per- *
ſuade a Man to find the Way to Heaven blind-
fold. No ; give me good Proof, or Pl] not ſtir
a Foot: With.me Seeing is Believing,

Phil. Remember your ſelf, good Neighbour :
Are not you a Chriſtian? Do not you believe
that Jeſus Chriſt came from Heaven on purpoſe
to make Diſcovery to us of thoſe Celeſtial be -
gions, and to ſhew us the Way thither ? And did
not he confirm his Report to us byundeniable
Miracles ? Did he not come into the'World mi-
raculouſly, and return thither again vifibly ? Did
he not from thence ſend down admirable Tokens
of his Preſence and Authority there, eſpecially
on the famous Day of Pentecoſt ? Beſides, Do you
not ſee all wiſe Men provide for another World ;
and that generally good and vertupys Men, when
they come to die, are raviſhed with Joy in Con-
templation of. it, as if they really faw Heaven
open to receive them ? =

Bioph. Whether or no l believe as much as you
do, yet I believe this one thing, inſtead of all the
reſt, that we are:born to be cheated. For, what
with the Illuſions of our own melancholy Fancies,
what by the Prejudices of our Education, and the
imperious DiQtates pf others ; what by the Au-
thority of unaccountable Tradition, and publick
Fame; and what by the Deligns of Politicians, it
is an hard Matter to know what elſe to believe..
. Phil. Indeed, Biophilus, I am; both forry and
aſhamed to hear you talk at. this-rate, ay

L A 0

148 A Winter-Evening Part IT.

do not wonder now, that you were ſo deſirous
to decline this ſort of Diſcourſe when we fell up-
on it. I hope you take me for your Friend, as
well as your Neighbour ; and Sebaſtian here for
a diſcreet and worthy Gentleman : Suffer your
{elf to be perſuaded by us to think and ſpeak
more ſoberly, and becoming your felf in theſe
great Matters; or if you will not think like a
Chriſtian, yet talk like a Man ; for, let me tell
you, yon ſeem not only to reject Chriſtianity,
but all Religion in general; and upon thoſe
Terms you will be as little fit for this World,
as for that which is to come.

For, What a ſad Creature is a Man of no Re-
ligion at all ? What State or Civil Government
will be able to endure him, whom no Oaths can
oblige, or faſten upon ? How can there Be any
Civil Society with him that hath no'Faith, that
can neither truſt, nor be truſted ? What Secu-
rity can ſuch a Man give, that he ſhaHfl not dif-
turb the State, violate the Perſon of his Prince,
faliifie his Truſt, ' betray his Friend, cut his
Neighbour*s Throat, if he be under- the Awe of
no God, the Expectation of no Rewards nor
Puniſkments in another World ? 'What Security
can there be, I ſay, in dealing with fuch a Man,
what Sincerity in-his Friendſhip, -what Safety in
his Neighbourhood ? For alt theſe depend upon
the Reverence”of Religion, which he that tis
wholly deſtitute of, muſt needs: become devorm
caput, a Wolf's Head, the Peſt and. Vermine of
Humane Society,

Do not therefore, dear Biophilms,” at once both
ſtifle your own Conſcience, and #ront the com-
-mon Senſe and Reaſon of Mankind. Do nor,'un-
der the pretence' of being more witty and ſaga-

clous

Part II, Conference, 149

cious than other Men, reaſon your ſelf into Bru-
cality ; and whilſt you grow over-wiſe in your
own Eyes, be the moſt fatally miſtaken, and loſt
for ever.

Why fhould you abandon your ſelf to Deſpe-
ration, and leave your ſelf without any Refuge
in Adverſity ? We are well and cheerful here at
preſent, God be thanked; but the Time will
come when God will ftand us in ſtead, when we
ſhall have need of the Retreats and Comforts of
Religion. Above all things in the World, leave
not your ſelf without Hope in your Latter End ;
do as becometh a Man of your Parts and Diſcre-
tion, ſuſpe&t your own Suſpicions, and let not
the Opinion you have, that other Men are under
Prejudices, prejudice you againſt the Arguments
for Believing. Come, deal ingenuouſly, and open
your Breaſt ; propound the Grounds of your Su-
fpicions, the Objections you have againſt Reli-
gion; and though I cannot promiſe you that [
will anſwer them all to your Satisfaction, yet I
doubt not but there is one that will.

Bioph. Look you, Gentlemen, you put me
into a great Strait ; for if, upon this Invitation
of yours, I do not diſcloſe my Mind to you, I
ſhall ſeem diſ-ingenuous, and you will think
worſe of me than perhaps | deſerve; and, on
the other ſide, if I do diſcover my Sentiments,
it is probable that my Creed will fall ſo many
Articles ſhort of yours, that we ſhall break
out into ſome Heats, and endanger the Conti-
nuance of our Neighbourly Converſation. How-
ever, ſince it ſeems to be your Deſire, I will be
plain with you, in Confidence that, as you are
Gentlemen, you will deal ingenuouſly with me z
and if you can do me no good, you will do me

L 3 no

I50 A Winter-Evening Part II.

no hurt. My meaning is, That if it ſhould haps
pen you do not convince my Reaſon, I hope you
will not defame my Perſon, nor <xpoſe me to the
Inſolencies of the Rabble, who believe in groſs,
and by whole-ſale, and throw Dirt upon all that
chew what they ſwallow.

"as Now, in the firſt place, that
Creed, em you may not think me a per-
VIE feft Sceptick, I declare to you,
that I acknowledge the Being of a God ; and
that not only becauſe the Generality of Man-
kind, and even Epicars himſelf owned ſo much,
but becauſe it is not conceivable how the World
ſhould be, without one ; for no Wit or Reaſon
of Man can evince to me, how any thing ſhould
begin to be, without ſome neceſlary and Eternal
Exiſtent, to begin the Motion, and to bring it
into Being ; or, which is the fame thing in ef-
felt, there can be no Second Cauſe, if there be
no Firſt,

But then, beyond this, you muſt pardon me ,
for, to deal ſincerely with you, I do not think
that this God minds or tronbles himſelf abour
the World, after he hath made it : Much leſs
do I ſee any ſufficient Gronnd for that which
Philander hath been talking fo warmly 2bout ;
namely, a World to come. And for Eternal
Life, ( which Men ſpeak ſuch great things of ) [
profeſs, I look upon it as a flat Impoſlibility ;
for as much as I ſee Men die, but ſee no Founda-
tion for a Belief, that there is any Life or Exi-
ſtence out of a Body.

There are ſome other Points of Affinity with
theſe that I with-hold my Aflent from : But be-
cauſe you have challenged me to a Rational De-

hate, therefore, to give fair Play, and tro put
F | the

Part II. Conference. IS1

the Buſineſs between us to an Iſſve, I will inſiſt
but upon one Point, and that ſhall be the ſame
which we fell into by chance at our firſt coming
together ; namely, Whether there be ſuch a
Thing as a publick Tribunal, or general Judg-
ment, where Men's Aftions ſhall be re-viewed
and cenſured, after this Life. Prove me but this
one Point ſufficiently and plainly, and I will grant
you all the reſt.

Sebaſt. Now you ſhew your ſelf a Man, and a
ſhrewd one too, though not a
Chriſtian : For I muſt acknow- T7** you Conſe=
ledge that you have, with great Iofluen —_—
Judgment, pitched upon the ve- jjzf of a Fudgment.
ry Cardinal Point of Religion;
and which, if it be proved, (as I do not doubt
bur it ſhall be } will inferr all the reſt ; bur if it
miſcarry, all falls with it. The Perſuaſion of a
Judgment to come is the great Awe upon Men's
Conſciences, the principal Motive of Vertue and
Piety, the Reſtraint and Check upon Vice and
Wickedneſs; and, indeed, the Sinew of Civil
Government, and Bond of Humane Society.
This both ſuppoſes the Being of a God, ( which
you grant, ) and of a Providence alſo, ( which
you deny; ) for if there were not a God, it is
evident there could be no Providence in this
World, nor Judgment in another : And this, if
it be granted, or proved, neceſſarily draws af-
ter it Rewards and Puniſhments in the Life to
come ; for otherwiſe a Judgment would be but
a Matter of Curioſity, and a Trouble to no pur-
poſe. You have therefore, in making Choice of
this for the Critical or Deciſive Point, given
great Proof of your own Sagacity, and put the
Matter upon a right lijue.

L 4 Bioph.

162 A Winter-Evening Part II.

Bioph. Well, prove it then.

Sebaſt. What Proof do you require of this ?
Why ſhould not the Teſtimony of the Holy Scri-
pture ſatisfie you ? For, in the firſt place, if
there be a God, (which you have acknowledged)
you cannot but-think it reaſonable, that if he
intend to judge the World, he ſhould give ſome
Intimation of it to the Sons of Men before-hand,
ſince they muſt needs be ſo highly concerned in
the Knowledge of it. And then, in the next
place, the Scripture cannot þe denied to be as
expreſs and full in this Particular, as it is poſſible
for Words to make it. There God declares and
confirms it innumerable times ; and the more to
awaken Men to the Conſideration of it, and Pre-
paration for it, he is ſaid to have appointed a ſet
Time for it, he hath foretold who-ſhall be the
Judge, with what Pomp and Retinue he ſhal]
come attended, what Meaſures he ſhall proceed
by, and what ſhall be the Circumſtances of that
great Solemnity.

- Bioph. Excuſe me there, Sebaſtian ;, I am not
: to be born down þy Authority,
Scripture-prof of hut convinced by Reaſon. If
a Day of Fudgment -
\ jaſtified by Reaſon, YOu Will do any good upon me,
you muſt deal with me as a Pht-
loſopher, not a bigotted Perſon.
- Sebaſt. By your Favour, Sir, it is not to im-
poſe upon you, to give you Divine Authority for
Proof. If, indeed, I ſhould urge you only with
the Opinions of Men, you might complain I did
you Wrong ; for in ſuch a Caſe, your Denial
would have as much Authority as their Aſſertion :
But I hope God may be believed upon his own
Word, eſpecially in a Buſineſs of this nature,

which depends ſo much ppon the Determination
| FG

=

Part II. Conference. 153

of his Will: For, who can tell God's Mind bet-
ter than himſelf + Who knows the Mind of Man,
but the Spirit of a Man which #s in im? And who
can pretend to declare what God will do, unleſs
he be pleaſed to reveal his Intentions ? But if he
declare he will judge the World, we may be
ſure it ſhall be done.

Bioph, Ay, but that is the Queſtion, Sebaſtiar.
How ſhall I be aſſured that God hath any ſuch In-
tentions, or hath made any ſuch Declaration ?

Sebaſt. That which we call by the Name of
Holy Scripture, is nothing elſe but a Colleftion
of ſuch Declarations of the Mind of the Divine
Majeſty, as he hath thought fit, from time to
time, to make to the Sons of Men. And thoſe
Books which are ſo called, have been reve-
renced by wiſe Men in all Ages upon that Ac-
count, as ſuch : All imaginable Care hath been
taken to preſerve them from Corruption or De-
pravation 3 and ſeveral of the beſt of Men
have expoſed their Lives, rather than conſent
to the Deſtruttion of them. Now, why ſhould
you call in queſtion the Authority of theſe
Books, which you cannot do without impeach-
ing the Wiſdom of the moſt able, and the Sin-
ccrity of the moſt honeſt of Men; and upon
the ſame Terms you derogate from the Faith of
all Mankind, and muſt { if you will be impar-
tial ) abrogate the Credit of all the old Re-
cords in the World. For as much as ( beſides
all other Conſiderations ) theſe Sacred Records,
I mean the Books of the Old and New Teſta-
wient, do bear an irrefragable Teſtimony to
each other; and, as a Pair of Indentures, juſti-
fie one another. Which you will eaſily be con-
vinced of, if you conſider, that theſe w_ Vo-

umes

164 A Wintee-Evening Part II.

lumes were written in ſeveral very remote Apes,
and conſequently by Perſons that could hold no
Correſpondence one with another ; and were in
the Cuſtody of thoſe that were of ſuch contrary
Intereſts and Opinions, that it was impoſſible
they either would or could conſpire together to
put a Cheat upon the World in them. Now,
if, notwithſtanding, theſe two Books ( in the
Circumſtances aforeſaid ) ſhall verifie one ano-
ther, ſo as that whatſoever the Old Teſtament
promiſes, the New Teſtament performs; what
the one fore-told, the other repreſents the Ac-
compliſhment of ; what Ground is, or can there
be, to ſuſpect the Truth of them ? For, if ſeve-
ral Witneſſes, and thoſe of ſeveral Countries,
and of contrary Intereſts, ſuch as never ſaw the
Faces of one another before, and therefore nei-
ther would nor could combine together, and
contrive their Story, and eſpecially being exa-
mined a-part too, ſhall notwithſtanding jump in
the ſame Matter of Fact, and Circumſtances al-
ſo, there is no man ſo humourſome, and abound-
ing in his own Senſe, but will allow their Evi-
dence to be good and ſubſtantial z then much
more is there very good Ground to believe theſe
Books, which have all theſe Advantages, and ſe-
veral other, which I will not inſiſt npon.

Bioph, Theſe are pretty things which you ſay
but this is not that kind of Proof I expected
from you. If this be all the Satisfaftion you can
give me, I am where I was. |

Sebaſt. No, Biophilzs, this 1s not all I have
to ſay; but I thought fic to remonſtrate to yon
the Sufficiency of this kind of Proof in it ſelf,
which Men of your Way are apt to make ſo ſlight

of ; and thence to convince you, that thoſe Men
that

Part II. Conference. 195

that take up with this alone, are not ſach ſoft
and credulous People, as you are wont to repre-
ſent them.

But what if I had no other © is jt Prin

this. I do not find #4#nce to prepare for
Proof but 4 2 Day of Fudement,
that you are adle [0 reply any though the Evidence

thing to it ; It iS an eaſier thing were leſs than it is,
ro hough at an Argument, than

to anſwer it. Beſides, If this Way of Proba-
tion were far leſs conſiderable than it is, yet you
know that any Evidence will ſerve againſt none ;
and the meaneſt Arguments will carry a Cauſe,
when there is nothing to be ſaid on the other
Side. If you could but pretend to prove, on
your part, that there were no ſuch thing as a
Judgment to come, you had then ſome Reaſon
to be ſtri&t in your Demands of Proof from me,
of what 1 aſſert : But in a true Balance, the leaſt
Grain or Moment in the World will caſt the
Scale, when there 15s nothing againſt it. Now,
ſince you know well enough, you can offer no
kind of Proof of an Aſſertion contrary to this we
have before us, nothing in the Earth but over-
wiſe Doubts, grave Suſpicions, and perhaps it
may not be ſo; I appeal to your impartial Rea-
ſon, whether it be not more fit to ſuſpect (at
leaſt) that it is ſo where there is ſome Proof of
it, than to ſuſpect it is not ſo where no Argu-
ment is given for the Negative z nay, indeed,
where none can be given.

Negatives, you know, are hard to prove in
general ; but eſpecially in ſuch a Caſe as this is :
For he that undertakes to prove ſuch a Nega-
tive, hath but one of theſe two Ways to do it,
viz, Either he muſt affirm, that he hath ſarvey-
£d the whole State of Nature, and feen all the
| Cauſes

I 66 AW inter-Evening Part II.

Cauſes that are in working ; and then muſt aſſert
ae fatto, that there is no ſuch thing upon the
Loom as that he denies: And alſo that he per-
fetly underſtands the whole Mind and Will of
God, and that he intends no ſuch thing ; or elſe
he muſt demonſtrate by Reaſon, that it is plain-
ly impoſlible, and a flat ContradiCtion, that any
ſuch thing ſhould be. Either of which you can-
not, without intolerable Abſurdity, affirm in the
preſent Caſe.

So that, as I ſaid, you have nothing but bare
Suſpicions on your Side, ( whatever Arguments I
have on mine.) Now, beſides the unequal Ba-
lance of Nothing againſt Something, be it never
fo ſmall, do but conſider what ftrange Impru-
dence It is to adventure fo great a Stake, as all
your [Intereſt in another World amounts to, up-
on a mere Non putaram. For, what if ſuch a
thing ſhould happen to prove true at laſt, what
will become of you then, what a ſad Condition
are you caſt into !

Wiſe Men are wont to value, not only Cer-
tainties, but alſo Probalities, and even Con-
tingencies alſo. Now, ſeeing it is not impoſli-
ble but ſuch a thing may be, and ir is of infi-
nite Conſequence if it ſhould be, there is all the
Wiſdom in the World to be provided for it.
You will ſay, It may not be : But that is all that
Infidelity it ſelf can enable you to ſay: And then
ſure it is far ſafer to ſuppoſe that it may be, for
no Hurt can come of that ; but the Danger 1s
unſpeakable on the other ſide, if it ſhould prove
to be true. In a Word, In ſuch a Caſe as this
15, it is a wiſe Man's Part,” rather to believe up-
on ſlight Evidence, than to diſ-b:lizve upon great

Preſumptions.
Bioph,

Part IT. Conference. 157

Bioph. I am beholden to you for the Friendly
Caution you give me: But it is your Reaſons |
expect at this time, and not your Advice.

Sebaſt. Thoſe you ſhall have preſently 3 and
do not think [ trifle with you, or decline the
Proof I promiſed, becauſe I proceed thus gra-
dually and flowly with you : The true Reaſon
whereof is, becauſe I would rather your own
Prudence ſhould incline you to believe, than that
my Arguments ſhould preſs you to it; and |
much more deſire that you ſhould be ſafe, than
that I ſhould have the Glory of a Vidtory. It is
only your Concern that we go upon; have there-
fore a little Patience, that we may rightly under-
ſtand one another ; and ſince you have refuſed
Scripture- proof, give me leave to ask you parti-
cularly, what kind of Proof you expect of this
Matter under our Conſideration.

In the firſt place, I hope you do not require
Senſible Evidence of a Day of
Judgment. You were ſaying e- _ What kind of
ven now, that no Man had ſcen Fr and =
Heaven, and therefore you did £2" 7 Et
not believe it. Poſlibly, thoſe peHed in the Prin-
Words ſlipped from you unad- ciples of Religion.
viſedly. However, it is (you
know ) a Thing futore which we are now deba-
ting about ; and Senſible Proot cannot be requi-
red of that, without flat Contradiction, Ir is
as if a Man ſhould defire to ſee that which con-
feſledly is not to be ſeen; and that a Thing
ſhould be that is not, or be” and not be at the
fame time. You know you cannot have Senfible
Evidence to Day, that the Sun will riſe to Mor-
row :. in ſhort, neither of .any thing; paſt, nor
future ; - but only of that which is _

ere

T58 A Winter-Ewvening Part Il.

There are ſome Men in this Age, and per-
haps you may he acquainted with them, who
w1ll only appeal to their Senfes; and according-
ly, they reje&t the Notion of God, and of Spi-
rits, merely bec3uſe they can ſee no ſuch things,
Now, if I 'thought. this were your Opinion, I
muſt go another Way to wark than I intended :
But if it will content you that I make the Point
ſeem reaſonable and clear to the Eyes of your
Mind, though I do not gratifie your Bodily Eyes
with a ſtrange Proſpect, then I will proceed as [
deſigned.

Bioph. Well, we are agreed: for that. I did,
I confeſs, ſpeak of ſeeing Heaven, but there was
no Contradiftion in that ; becauſe if there be any
ſuch Place; it .is ſuppoſed to. be conſtantly exj-
ſtent, and therefore may be viſible: Yer I do
not expect to ſee the Judgment, till the Time
comes ; becauſe Futures are.not to be ſeen, but
fore-ſeen. Goon therefore, and: give me Ratio-
nal Evidence, and it ſhall ſuffice,

Sebaſt. But there is another thing I deſire to
be reſolved of ; namely, What Meaſure or De-
gree of Rational Evidence ) ou will be ſatisfied
with ? The Reaſon of my Enquiry is this: Some
Men there are, who highly pretend to a Readi-
neſs to believe upon juſt Grounds ;. but when 1t
comes to Trial, they are humourſome and ca-
ptious ; they will require ſuch Evidence as the
Nature of the Thing cannot 'admit of, ( even
ſuppoſing it to be true; ) they expedt ſuch Proof
as ſhall leave no Room for Cavil and Exceptian,
ſuch as a Marr can find no Evaſion from, but that
will extort an Aſſent from hin, whether he will
or no. Now:l muſt tell you, this is very hard

and unreaſonable in any Caſe whatſoever ; tor,
| as

Ro 7 I OS cc RR

- - a.
a w

Part I. Conference. I59

as much as the Wit of Man is fitter to pull
down, than to build up; and it is the ealieſt
thing in the World to find Shifts and Cavils: In-
ſomuch that he mult believe very little indeed,
that will admit of nothing which ſome ſlight
ObjeCti2n or other may be made againſt. God
himſelf hath provided no Remedy tor Contuma-
cy ; and ſuch Men mult go on, and periſh with-
out Cure; for no Argument can eſcape a captious
Humour.

Beſides, If ſuch ſtrict Demands of Satisfaftion
were at any Time allowable, yet can they by no
Means be reaſonably inſiſted upon in ſuch a Caſe
as this; for if ſuch irreſiſtible Evidence were to
be had in this Matter, there would be no Room
for Vertue ; it would then be a neceſſary Attion
to believe, and no Inſtance of Choice, nor any
Argument of a vertuous Mind : For what can be
the Praiſe or Rewardableneſs of doing that which
a Man cannot chuſe but do? Or what Excellency
is there in Faith, when there is.no Pretence in
the World for Unbelief?

Therefore all that you can juſtly and wiſely
expect in the preſent Caſe, is, That there be ſuf-
ficient Ground given you for a diſcreet Choice ;
and Over-weight enough in one Scale to incline
the Judgment of a prudent Man ſo far, that he
ſhall ſee it is more reaſonable that he belieye,
than that he do not. This is very properly
to be eſteemed Conviftion of our Reaſon; this
5 the juſt Standard of Prudence, and this is the
Principle that wiſe Men goyera themſelves by in
weighty Affairs. And, indeed, if no Man ſhquld
determine himſelf to the Purſuit of a Buſineſs,
until there were no Objection, no-Excuſe, Co-
lour, or Pretence to the: contrary, all wa He

ble

t 60 A W. inter-Exjening Part Il.

bleſt Projeftions, and moſt profitable and neceſ:
ſary Undertaking of Mankind, would be nipped
and blaſted in the Bud.

Bioph. In truth, I do not ſee but your Demand
is reaſonable; and I muſt yield to you in this
Particular alfo.

\ Sebaſf. Then I ask no more. |
Phil. Yes, Sebaſtian, les me

In order to the put you in mind of one thing
—_— wy - more; which is, That Biophi-
he = /r gon 2 tu mill promiſe you to hold the
to Indiflerency. Scales even; otherwiſe, an over-

weight tn either of them will not
be diſcernible. My meaning is, That he agree
to be ſincerely indiflerent ; and willing to believe
on the one Side, as well as on the other : For [
have found by my own Experience, that whilſt
a Man retains a partial Fondneſs for an Opinion,
it is not all the Arguments in the World ſhall
beat him out of it; he will fee all that which
makes for him as through a Magnifying-Glaſs,
and ſo think it great and conſiderable ; and con-
trariwiſe, all that which is againſt him ſhall ſeem
little and deſpicable. But when a Man comes to
this paſs, that he is content one Side fhould be
true as well as the other, then (and not till then)
the beſt Reaſon will carry it. Therefore unleſs
you premiſe this, you will ſtrive againſt the
Stream, and diſpute in vain.

Sebaſt, Thank you heartily for that, Philan-
der. 1t is very true, Biophilus, that if you op-
poſe Reſolution and Prejudice againſt the Diſ-
courſe I am to make to you, that will be Armour
of Proof againſt all the Arguments that can be
brought ; and then we had as good ſtay here, as

gofarther and loſe our Labour. Ap
U

Part II. Conference. 161

But why, good Biophilu, ſhould you not lie
as far towards the Doftrine which 1 am aſſert-
ing, as towards the contrary ? 2
Nay, Why ſhould you not look _# * zreatl 4
upon it as greatly your Intereſt, = re ny vob
that there ſhould bz another mnt
World, and a Judgment ar the |
End of this? It is certain, you and all of us muſt
die, there is no peradventure in that; and ir
were a moſt ſad and diſmal thing to think of ir,
if Death put an utter End to a Man, ſo that all
his Comforts, and all his Hopes expire with him.
And I wonder in my Heart how any Man can
think of Death with any Meaſure of Patience up-
on thoſe Terms ; and that it doth not make him
ſullen and melancholy all the Days of his Life.
You will ſay, he muſt yield to Neceſſity : But
that is a Remedy worſe than the Diſcaſe, (if it
be poſſible ) to ſeek a Cure for Death in Deſpe-
ration. Torell me there is a Neceſlity of dying,
is only to tell me there is no Help in the Ciſe
which is the very thing I complaia of. |

And this Conſideration is ſo much the more
ſharp and cutting, by how much the more a
Man's Life hath been pleaſant and comfortable.
As for a Man that hath all his Life-time been op-
preſſed with Calamities, pinched with Poverty,
covered with Obloquy, or afflicted with horri-
ble Pains, &c. it may ſeem ealie to him to die,
that ſo he might have that Reſt in the Grave,
which he could not have above Ground ; and
though he thinks he ſhall be ſenſible of no Com-
fort there, yet he ſhall fare as well as other Men
in that State. But for him that hath had good
Treatmeat in the World, pleaſant Accommoda-
tions, tempting Fortunes ww CO; By

uc

162 A Winter-E<ening Part IE.

ſach a Man to think of Death, which will ſpoil
him of all his Ornaments, and level him with
the Duſt z that will interrupt all his Delights,
put an End to all his Deſigns and Projeftions,
and dray a dark Veil over all his Glories, I ſay,
if ſuch a Man hath nothing to comfort him a-
gainſt Death, if there be no Life after this, but
a Man muſt for ever forſake, and be forſaken of
all his Felicities, 1 cannot ſee how he can poſſi-
bly avoid an unſpeakable Abhorrence of it, Nay,
chats not all neither ; for, methinks it ſhould
render all his preſent Enjoyments, not only inſi-
pid and loathſome, but even a very Torment to
him, whilſt he is in the midſt of them.

Now, Why ſhould any Man reſiſt the only Re-
medy in this Caſe, the only Conſolatory againſt
the Summ of all Calamities; which is, the Hopes
of another Life ? Why ſhould he be willirg to:
die as the Beaſt dies, and to abandon himſelf to
the Grave, to Rottenneſs, and Oblivion? Ir
were certainly better never to have been born,
than both to live in perpetual fear of dying, and
being dead, to be as if a Man had never lived :
Better never to have taſted the Sweets of Life,
than to be only tantalized; and by that time he
begins to'live, to begin to die; and then be eter-
nally deprived of what he juſt had a Smack and
a Sight of.

Nay, farther yet; If a Man had lived only
like a Beaſt, it had been no great matter to die
ike a Beaſt : If, I ſay, a Man looked no farther
than his Fodder, had no Senſe of any thing but
Eating and Drinking, and had a Soul in him
that ſerved only for Salt to keep the Body from
PutrefaCion, ſo that he never looked about him,
made no Improvement of himſelf, and had no

, Deſigns

Part IT. Conference. 163

Deſgns in his Head, jt were les matter if he
returned to the Earth, which (like a Mole) he
did nothing but root io, and turn over, whilſt he
was upon it. But for a Man of an aCtive Soul,
of improved Parts, of Reaſon, and Wiidom, and
Uſefulneſs, to be ſmothered in the Grave; fo
that all his Notions and Diſcoveries, all Arts
and Sciences ; nay, all his Vertues and Gallantry
of Mind, all his Hopes and Deſigns, ſhall be ab-
ruptly broken off, and buried in Oblivion ; this
is ſo ſad and diſmal a thing, that it is able to
diſcourage all Study and Induſtry, all Care and
Culture of a Man's ſelf : For, Why ſhould I ſtrive
to live like a Man, if I muſt die like a Beaſt ?
Why ſhould I take pains to know, when by in-
creaſmg Knowledge, 1 ſhould but increaſe my Sar-
row ? For as much as the more I know, the
more I ſhall feel my ſelf miſerable; and, indeed,
become guilty of my own Torment; So that if
there were no Hopes after this preſent Life, it
would be a more adviſable Courſe for a Man to
abandon himſelf to the moſt dark and ſqualid
Barbariſm, -rather than to weary and wear out
himſelf in the Queſt of Knowledge ; and better
never to apply himſelf to any Study, or to be-
ſtow any Pains or Coſt upon himſelf ; nay, ir
deed, if it were poſlible, it were defirabte ne-
ver to know any thing, or to think at all. For,
Why ſhould a Man put a Cheat upon himfelf ?
Why ſhould he take, not only unprofitable, but
vexatious Pains? In a Word, Why ſhould he not
ſo live, as he muſt die ? To all which add, That
if there were indeed no other World, nor Life
hereafter, and if there be any Man that can
find in his Heart to be fond of living upon thoſe
Terms, he muſt of neceſſity be a pitiable Slave

M 2 whilſt

164 A Winter-Evening Part IT.

whilſt he continues here ; the perpetual Fears of
Death cramping him, and keeping him in con-
tinual Bondage, that he ſhall not have the Spi-
fit or Courage to dare to do any brave Aftion
but contrariwiſe, he will be unavoidably tempt-
ed to be a wretched Coward, and baſe Fellow ;
and become a ſordid Paraſite, to flatter and hu-
mour every Body, merely upon the Account of
Self-preſervation.

Why therefore ſhould any Man be fond of
ſuch an uncomfortable, nay, ſuch a ſottiſh and
debaſing Opinion ? Why ſhould not a Man chuſe
rzther to erect his own Mind, and be willing
to hope well of himſelf, by chcriſhing an Expe-
Ctation that he may ſurvive his Body, and live
eternally,

Bioph. There is no Queſtion, Sebaſtia», but
that Living for ever is very deſirable, if a Van
could hope for ſuch a thing abſolutely, and not
clogged with Conditions. As for Death it ſelf,
that would have no great matter of Formidable-
neſs in it, if it be either ( as I ſuppoſe it) a per-
fect Interciſion of all Senſe ; or, much leſs, if it
were (as the Men of your Perſuaſion uſe to
ſpeak) only a dark Paſſage to another Light.
But the Miſchief 1s, that upon your Hypotheſts,
a Judgment muſt paſs upon a Man firſt, before he
can arrive at that other Life. Now that is the
terrible thing ; if I were rid of the Danger of
That, it would (as you ſay well) be my Intereſt
to believe all the reſt, in ſpight of all Objeftions
to the contrary.

Sebaſt. 1 Co not deſign to impoſe upon you ;
for it 1s very true, there is no Paſlage into the
other World, without undergoing a Teſt or

Trial, whether we be fit for Eternal Life, or -
An

eV a«s wS«©@«4s — —_—

— =” FF as WP

Part IT. Conference. 165

And it is moſt certain alſo, that if a Man die an
impious, a baſe and wicked Perſon, it were bet-
ter for him that either he had not been born, or
elſe that the Grave and Oblivion might cover hin
to all Eternity. But what need this fright any
Man whilſt he is alive, and may provide himſe}f
accordingly ? Eſpecially ſince the Grace of God
puts it in our Choice and Power to be good, and
fo qualified, that we may be out of all danger of
miſcarrying in the Judgment.

For, Biophilus, 'Can it be thought that God
Almighty ſhould ſeek the Ruin of his Creatures ?
Or that he can: have any Deſign upon them, to
make them eternally miſerable ? If he bad, there
would not be-the Solemnities of a.Day of Judg-
ment; for he would not need to inſnare us in
Forms. of Law, but might, without more ado,
have deſtroyed us when he pleaſed ; and who
could reſiſt kim, or difpute the Caſe with him ?
Undoubtedly, he is too great a Majeſty to have
any little Ends to ſerve, and therefore we can
fuſpe&t no Hurt from. him ; and- there could
be nothing but the Overflowings, of his own
Goodneſs, that provoked him to make us 2t the
firſt ; and therefore there:can be nothing of En-
vy, Malignity, or Cruelty in any of his Counſels
and Deſigns about us.

And that all theſe are not mere Sayings, or
Sanguine Conjectures of mine, but real Truth,
( beſides all other Ways-of Probation) you may
be aſſured by this: Conſideration ; That in all
God's:Demands from us, as the Terms and Con-
ditions of our Happineſs ; or ( which is all one)
in:all. the Duties be requires at our Hands, and
in-all the Obligations of Religion, there is no-
thing - ſevere and diſcouraging, nothing ex-

M3 cremely

166 A Wimer-Evening Part IE.

tremely harſh and difficult, much leſs impoſſi-
ble. Nay, in truth, if Things be rightly con-
ſidered, 1 believe there will be nothing to be
found in any Inſtitution of Religion that ever
was heard of in the World, that could go fo
much againft the Grain with Men, as to tempr
them to run the hazard of dying eternally, ra-
ther than to comply with it. And if any ſuch
were to be found, it were Ground enough to
aſſure us, that ſuch Inſtitutions proceeded not
from God: For ſuch is his Wiſdom and Benig-
nity, that he can impoſe nothing as a fevere
Task-Maſter, purely to abridge our Liberty, or
fo break our Spirits, and opprefs our Powers ;
but only to raiſe and improve ys according
to onr utmoſt Capacities, and as neceflary Me-
_ to train us up as Candidates for Eterna}
Life.

E will not deny but there are . fome Reftraints
put upon us, and ſome Difficalties we muſt ex-
pe& t6 encounter ; otherwiſe Religion would
have ne Excellency in ir, nor could we have
Either the Glory, or the Pleaſare, in obtaining
our End and Happineſs, if it were won without
Sweat and F:abour. But 1 do confidently aflert,
that theſe Difficulties ( whatever they are) we
ſhall find juſt Reaſon to undergo with all Chear-
fulneſs, if we do but compare what Religion
promiſes, with what it cotimands or impoſes;
And as for the Chriſtian Religion in particular,
alt this which I have ſaid is ſo remarkably true
of that, that if any thing hath been repreſented
as 4 Branch and neceſſary Duty thereof, which
is of a contrary Nature to what I have now ſup-
poſed, 1 do not doubt, with great Eaſe, to make
It appear, that ſuch Suggeſtion is-cither a ag 7
-

Part II. Conference. 167

ble Miſtake, or a notorious Scandal. Why
then, I ſay, ſhould a Man think either ſo ill of
God, or of himſelf, as to be afraid or unwilling
£o fall into his Hands? You cannot fore-bode
any Evil from him, if you are ſatisfied that he
is perfe&t and happy, full and glorious, juſt
and good ; and hPa you maſt condemn
your ſelf of prodigious Folly, in not complying
with reaſonable and equitable Laws, and of be-
ing wilfully acceſſary to your own Calamity,” if
you dare not undergo his Judgment. So that,
upon the whole Matter, there can be no Reaſon,
why you ſhould be unwilling to believe there is
ſuch a thing : And that is all I deſire of you at
preſent, and I heartily conjure you to be true to
your ſelf herein. |

Bioph. Well, 1 am reſolved to be as indifferent
as It is poſſible to be : Now therefore prove it.

Sebaſt. That I will do with |
all !poſſible Plainneſs and _ COS j* fo
rity; namely, I will make go adement
that there is ſufficient Reaſon to 7 pct
incline a prudent Man to expect and believe,
that, after this Life, God Almighty will-c#M
Men to Account, anc judge them according to
their former ARtions and Behaviour.

Now, you know it is the nature of Moral
Arguments, not to depend upon one lingle Evi-
dence ; but to conſiſt of the united Force of ſe-
veral Conſiderations. Accordingly, my preſent
Proof of a Judgment to cone (as aforeſaid) muſt
compriſe theſe Three Particulars.

Firſt, I. will ſhew, That the Nature and Con-
dition of Mankind is ſuch, as to render him fit
and capable . to come to an Account, and to un-

dergo {uch a Judgment as we ſpeak of,
M 4 Secondly,

168 A Winter-Evening Part II.

Secondly, That it is very agreeable to the
Nzture and Attributes of Gad, ( according to
thoſe Notions which we have of him) that he
ſhould call Mankind to ſuch an Account, and
judge them.

Thirdly, That God Almighty aftually exer-

ciſes and diſplays ſuch a Providence in this pre-
ſent World, as gives Earneſt before-hand, that
he really intends to judge it hereafter.
Theſe Three Things make Way for, and ſuc-
ceed each other naturally ; and all together, a-
mount to a full Proof of the Point in hand.
Wherefore, when I] have opened and made them
out ſeverally, in the Ordcr I have laid them
down, I will leave it to youto co!le@ the Reſult
of them.

Firſt, I ſay, the Nature and Condition of

Mankin 1 is of Mankind is ſuch, as renders him
fab s Nature, and capable of undergoing a Judg-
endxed with ſuch MENT in another World ; and
=_ _—_—_ therefore 'it js reaſonable that
ze reaſonable f2r he expect it accordingly. This
hin a", expett Jaog* "pri appear by the Inſtances fol-
__ 7 vs "lowing.

In the firſt place, It is notorious, that Man-
kind is endned with a large and comptehenfive
Mind, whittt is' not- confined to 'the mere Ob-
as of his Senſes," 2nd Things' preſent before
him ; butHath a vaſt Scope; and Profpett ; by
means of which,” he” ſurveys the Univerſe, em-
braces the* whole World, and” takes within his
Verge, as well T hibgs paſt and Things to come,
235 thoſe that are preſent ; which'no other-Crea-
fort is capable of but himſelf. The Beaſt hath
no'kind-of Notice of, or Concern for'what was
in former Time, nor no Sollicitude about what
may

Part IL. Conference. 169

' may come after z but only applies it ſelf to the
preſent Exigencies or Conveniencies of the Bo-
dy. But Man is very curious and inquilitive in-
to Hiſtory, and how Things paſled of old, long
before he was born; and is alſo very thoughtful
and anxious what may befall hereafter, when he
ſhall be dead and gone. Now, this ene Conſji-
deration alone makes him look as if he were a
Being that were concerned in the whole Frame
of Nature, and in all the Revolutions of Provi-
dence, and, at leaſt, ,of more Conſequence than
to be a mere Pageant for the ſhort Time of this
Life; or a Muſhroom, to ſhoot out of the Earth,
and return to it again, and ſo he as if it had
never been.

Beſides, We may obſerve, That the Mind of
Man doth not only conſider the abſolute Nature
of Things, as they lie ſingly and ſeverally before
it but compares them together, and eſtimates
their relative Natures, the mutual ReſpeQts thar
they have to each other, and the various Aſpe&s
and' Influences they have upon each other ; and
ſo comparing and conferring Things together,
raiſes Obſervations, makes Inferences, deduces
Concluſions, frames general Maxims ; thereby
brings Things into Order and Method, and rai-
ſes Arts and Sciences. All, or any of which
Things, no Creature below himſelf makes any
Pretence to, or gives any Token. of. From
whence we may conclude, not only the Pre-emi-
nence of Nature, but that he is ordained to
higher Purpoſes. |

Moreover, Mankind is endowed with Liberty
of Choice, and Freedom of Will ; by virtue of
which, he doth not only mave himſelf by his
own internal Principles, and vital Energy ; but
TOY alſo

170 A Winter-Evening Part IT.

alſo. can determine himſelf to this Object, or
that ; and either preſume or deſiſt the Proſe-
cution at his own Pleaſure, Infomuch that he
is neither carried by the Swinge of any ſupe-
rior Cauſes, nor fatally allured by the power-
ful Charms of any Objefts from without ; no,
nor by the Efficacy of any Arguments ariſing
there-from; nor any Impreſſion whatſoever
(ſaving that of God Almighty ) can over-bear
or ſuperſede - his own Reſolution, but thar he
can at or deſiſt, ſuſpend Proſecution, or purſue
his own Choice ; and apply himſelf to this Ob-
je, or that; and follow this Argument and
Motive, or the other : He hath ſuch an Helm
within himſelf, that he can ſail againſt Wind
and Tide ; he can move himſelf in a Calm, and
ſtay himſelf in a Storm : In. a Word, He can
move which Way, when, and how far he will ;
and ſtop his own Career when he pleafes. The
Truth of this we find by daily Experience ; and
we commonly pleaſe our ſelves too much in this
Prerogative of our Natures. We ſee that which
5 better, and follow that which we know to be
worſe : We hear Arguments, and reject them,
becauſe we will do ſo; we are perſuaded to the
contrary, and yet go on; and when and what-
ſoever we act, we find at the ſame time we could
have done quite contrary if we had pleaſed. O-
ther Creatures either at merely as they are aCt-
ed by ſuperior Cauſes, drawn by inviſible Wyers,
or fatally inclined by the Objelts and Motives
before them : But we are put into the Hand of
our own Counſels, and wholly governed by our
felves, as to our inward Reſolations and Deter-
minations- . Now this, as it is a mighty Diſcri-
mination of our Natures from theirs, ſo it baſh

als

Part I. Conference. 171:

this peculiar Effect, that it renders a Man's A-
ions properly his own, and imputable to him-
felf, and to nothing elfe ; and conſequently, fits
him to undergo a Judgment for them.

But further yet; 1o make Mankind more ca-
pable of a Judgment, he hath a direCtive Rule,
or Law of Reaſon within him, whereby to go-
vern himſelf, both in his EleCtions, and Proſe-
cutions ; that is, he aCts not only freely and un-
determinately in reſpeCt of any Cauſe without
kimſelf; but he hath a Light within, to guide
and dire@ thoſe free Powers of his, that they
may not run riot, and moye extravagantly ; by
the Means of which he is enabled both to make
choice of his Deſigns, and to ſeleCt fir and pro-
per Methods of accompliſhing them. For, as he
is not ſtaked down to ſome one particular Buſi-
nefs, ( as generally other Creatures are) but hath
great Scope to expatiate in, and Variety to pleaſe
himſelf withal ; ſo he hath a Card and Compaſs
given him to fail by in that vaſt Ocean which lies
before him : That is, he hath a Faculty of diſ-
cerning the difference of "Things; and conſe-
quently, can judge what 1s werthy to be pro-
pounded as his Poſt and Deſign, and alſo to mea-
ſure and adjuſt the Means thereunto ; which ren-
ders him more fit to give an Account, both of
his Eleſtions and Proſecutions.

Nay, farther yet : Humane Nature, by the
Advantage of this Light within him, hath not
only a Capacity of apprehending and judging of
Natural Good and Evil, or ſuch Things as are
only pleaſant and profitable, or the contrary ;
but hath alſo Notions of higher Good and Evil,
which we commonly call Moral ; that is, he
finds himſelf obliged to have regard to ſome-

$ thing

172 A Winter-Evening Part Il,

thing elſe beſides, and better than his Body ;
namely, either to the Deity, or to the Commu-
nity of Mankind ; or, at leaſt, to his own better
Part, his Soul and Mind. None of which are at
alt conſidered by any Creature below Man : And
there is hardly any part of Mankind, ( at leaſt,
that deſerve to be ſo eſteemed ) which doth not
think it ſelf concerned in all theſe. | For we ſee,
whoſoever hath any thing of a Man in him, doth
think ſome Actions to become, or not become
him reſpectively, merely as he is a Man; which
would admit of no difference, but 'be 211 alike
m a Beaſt. Whereupon it is, that'a Man cannot
diſpenſe with himfelf in the doing of: ſeveral
things which are in his power to do ;' no, not in
the Dark, and the greateſt Privacy ; becauſe e-
very Man that-in any meaſure underſtands him-
ſelf,” hath a Reverence' of himſelf; and the Ef-
fe&t of this betrays it ſelf in that quick Senſe
which Mankind 'hath peculiarly: of Shame and
Honour : Which: argues him to' bz accountable
to ſomething higher than his Senſes.

"Above all this, It' is confiderable, that Man-
kind hath not only a ſpeculative' Apprehenfion
of Moral Good and Evil, but”2 praftical and
very 'quick and pungent Senſe of it, which we
call Conſcience ; by which he not only remem-
bers and calls to mind' whatſoever hath paſgd
him,' but reflefting alſo upon the Ends: and Cir-
cumſtances of his own Actions, and camparing
what he hath done, both for Matter 'and Man-
ner, either with the Rule of Reaſon within him,
or ſome other'Law, he cenſures and judges him-
ſelf accordingly :' If he hath done well and ver-
reouſly ; that is, bath approved himſelf-ro him-
ſelf, 'he then applatids and comforts..himſelf,
NET and

Part II. Conference. 173

and feels an unſpeakable Satisfaftion in his own
Mind. As for Example, If a Man bave behaved
himſelf gallantly towards his Prince and Coun-
try ; if he have carried himſelf ingenuouſly and
gratefully towards his Friends, his Patrons, or
BenefaQors ; if he have been beneficient to any
part of Mankind ; if he have demonſtrated Love
to God, or Goodneſs, and good Men ; if he have
reſtrained his own Rage and Paſſions ; if he have
reſcued an Innocent from the Hand of the Op-
preſſor, or done any thing of like nature, the
Heart of every Man naturally, in ſuch a Caſe,
feels ſuch an inward Delight as ſweetens his Spi-
tits, and chears his very Countenance. On the
contrary, If he have been falſe, treacherous and
ingrateful ; if he have been cruel and oppreſlive,
or have ſaid or done any baſe thing, he is pre-
ſently upbraided, accuſed, condemned and tor-
mented by himſelf. Now, What is all this but
Prejudicium, a kind of Anticipation of the Judg-
ment to come ?

Burt if any Man ſhall pretend this thing called
Conſcience, which we now ſpeak of, to be no
Natural Endowment of Humanity, but only the
Effet of Cuſtom and Education ; ſuch a Perſon
may eaſily undeceive himſelf, if he will but con-
fider, that all this which I have ſpoken of Con-
ſcience, both as to the Matter and Form of ir,
( or Symerefis and Syneideſis, as learned Men are
wont to diſtinguiſh) is ſo univerſal to all Man-
kind, ( at leaſt, that have not done Violence to
themſelves) that it can with no Colour be im-
puted to Education, but muſt be reſolved into
the very- Nature and Senſe of the Soul. And
moreover, a different Notion and Apprehenſion

of the fore-mentioned Particulars is ſo deeply im-
planted

174 A Winter-Eaening Part IE.

planted in the Minds of Men, that it is impoſſible
any contrary Cuſtom or Education ſhould abſo-
lutely and totally efface it ; therefore it is the
Senſe of Nature, and conſequently a Preſage of
the Divine Judgment.

To all which add in the laſt place, That the
Mind of Man ſeems plainly to be above the Bo-
dy, and independent of it ; for as much as we
ſee, that not only our Reaſon, and the Powers
of our Souls, are ſo far from decaying with the
Body, that contrariwiſe, they grow more ſtrong
and vigorous by thoſe very Cauſes which im-
Pair the Body ; [ mean, by Age, Exerciſe and
Experience. Beſides, it is calaly obſervable, that
our Souls do, as often as they pleaſe, att quite
contrary to the Intereſts and Inclinations of our
Bodies, and frequently control the Paſſions there-
of, as well as corre and over-rule the Verdi
of our Senſ:s : Therefore it is not at all pro-
bable that they ſhould periſh with our Bodies,
but ſurvive to ſome further Purpoſes ; eſpecial-
ly if we take in what I intimated before, name-
ly, the Conſideration of the Shortneſs of the
Time of this Life ; which is ſo very inconſider-
able for ſo excellent a Being as the Soul to diſ-
play it ſelf in, that it ſeems unworthy of all the
aforeſaid Perfetions, and more unworthy of the
Contrivance of that Wiſdom which made us, to
order it ſo; unleſs it be, that Mankind is placed
here only in a State of Probation, and is to be
tried hereafter, in order to a more laſting Sub-
liſtence and Duration. Which, in conſideration
of all the Premiſes, he cannot but be thought
capable of ; at leaſt, if there be a Judge as fit
to judge him, as he is fit to undergo a Judgment.
Which brings me to my Second Branch. _

joph,

Part II. Conference. 175

Bioph. Hold a little, I pray, good Sebaſtian :
You have ſpoken many Things well and worthi-
ly, of the Pre-eminence of Humane Nature ;
ar ſome of them ſuch as are not only ſufficient
to ereft a Man's Spirits, and provoke him to
hope well of himſelf ; but alſo do render it in
ſome ſort probable, that we are deſigned for
ſome higher Uſes than we commonly apply our
| ſelves to. Nevertheleſs, you have not reached
your Point ; nor will all yon have faid attain the
End you propounded, unlefs you go farther,
and prove the Soul of Man to be a Spirit, or
Immaterial Subſtance, ( as the Men of your Way
are wont to ſpeak ; ) that ſo there may be a
plain Foundation for its Exiſtence out of the Bo-
dy. Without which, let it be as excellent a Be-
ing as it can, and adorned with as many other
PerfeCtions as you can imagine, it cannot be ca-
pable of ſtanding at a Tribunal, and undergoing
ſach a Judgment in another World as we are
ſpeaking of.

Sebaſt. I could have wiſhed you would have
given me leave to lay all the Parts of my Argu-
ment together before you, that ſo you might
have taken a View of it entire, and all at once ;
and then you might have objefted as you ſhould
have ſeen Cauſe. But however, I will comply
with your Method : And as to that which you
have thought fir now to interpoſe, 1 anſwer
theſe two Things.

\ Firſt, I ſay, It is not neceſſary to the Buſineſs
in hand, that the Soul be proved to be ſtrialy
immaterial, and capable of exiſting and ating
out of the Body ; for as much as at the Day of
Judgment I ſuppoſe the Body ſhall be raiſed a-
gain: And then, if it ſhould be ſo, that all the

Powers

i 76 AW. inter-Evening Part IT.

Powers of the Soul were laid aſleep by Death,
until that Time ; yet now, upon a Re-union
with their proper Organs, they would revive a-
gain. So that I did not, in my Proof, fall ſhort
of the Mark I aimed at; but you out-ſhoot the
Point in your Demand : For, whether the Soul
| be a Spiritual Subſtance or no, ſo long as thoſe
Perfections which we have enumer.ted belong
to it,, there is nothing wanting to make it capa-

ble of undergoing a Judgment. But,
Secondly, Toſpeak my own Mind plainly, and
to come home tos your Satisfaction, I muſt tel]
you, That as, for my part, I do

The Soul Man not: doubt but that the Soul of
Poe nd” Mani, properly and ftridtly, of

a ſpiritual Nature ; ſo l am con-
dent that thoſe Things which we have aſcribed
to it, do ſufficiently prove it to be ſo; ſeeing ir
is impoſſible to ſalve thoſe Phenomena, or to give
any tolerable Account of-thoſe great Accompliſh-
ments and Performances of the Soul before ſpeci-
fied from mere Matter, let it be modified or cir-
cumſtantiated how it can.

Simple Perception of Objetts is of the low-
eit Rank of Humane Perfeftions ; and, indeed,
is not proper to Humane Nature, but common
to Brutes ; yet this ſeems impoſſible to be per-
formed by mere Matter. For the Eye, though
it be a very admirable and exquiſite Organ, can
by no means be ſaid to perceive the Objects of
Sight, but only to tranſmit or preſent them to
ſome Perceptive Power : It doth, I ſay, only as
a Glaſs, repreſent the Species or Image of the
Thing ;z which even a dead Eye, or an Hole, will
in ſome meaſure perform ; but it makes no Judg-
ment of the Object at all, as appears by _

tnat

Part II. Conference. 177

that all Objects are tranſmitted, reverſed, or with
the Heels upward, through the Eye, and ſo lefr,
till ſome higher Powers ſet them right and on
their Legs, and judges of their Diſtance, and
other Circumſtances.

Now, if it be ſo, that Matter thus advanta-
geouſly diſpoſed and improved, as in the admi-
rable Structure of the Eye, cannot perform that
one Act of Simple Perception, what ſhall become
of all thoſe nobler Ations of the Soul? And into
what ſhall they be reſolved ? Such as Self-motion,
the ſtrange Celerity of Thought, Memory of ther
which is paſt, Prudence and Fore-caſt for that
which is to come, and a Thouſand other ſtrange
Operations. Is it imaginable that mere Matter
ſhould underſtand, argue, diſpute, conſider and
conferr the Relation of one Thing to another ;
and thence inferr Conſequences, and make Con-
cluſions ? Is it likely that mere Body and Quanti-
ty ſhould be ſenſible of Shame and Honour ;, nay,
be conſcientious too, and accuſe, condemn and
torture it ſelf; or, which is moſt wonderful of
all, check, control, deny, limit and mortihe it
ſelf? He that will undertake to ſhew how all
theſe Things may be performed by Atoms and
Motion only, is a ſubtile Mechaniſt indeed ; and
I do not doubt but, at the ſame rate, ſuch a Man
may be able to make a new World when he plea-
ſes, with the ſame Atoms as Materials. For it

. lsevident, there is more Intricacy in this little

World of Man, than in the whole Fabrick of
Heaven and Earth beſides.

Wherefore, if Matter or Body cannot perform
the aforeſaid Operations, then the Soul of Man,
which doth perform them, muſt be acknowledg-
ed to be a Spiricual Subſtance.

N Bioph,

178 A Winter-Ewvening PartII.

Bioph. ta Froth, yau talk very ſhrewdly z but
for my Life, 1 cannat underſtand what you mean
by this Thing which you call Spirit ; and there-
fore I reject the Nation, as Giþberiſh and Non-
ſenſe.

Sebaſf. Softly, good Rwphibss : What Rea-
ſon is there for that haſty Conclukon ! Muſt
we needs deny every ſuch Thing ta be, as is
hard to underſtand ? Muſt we, hike dull Boys,
tear out the Leſſon that is difficult to learn ?
Is nothing true, but what is ealie 3 nor peſ-
ſible, bur. what is facile ? But belides, let me
tell you, upen fecond Thoughts, there is not
more Difficulty in ,underfitanding the Naturg
of Spirits, than there is in concetving hew
all the aforeſaid Operations ſhould be per-
formed with them; no, nor half fo much nei-
ther : Sa that nothing is gatten by the Obje-
lion; for it is a very vain Thing to objet
Difficulty, when at the ſame time you are far-
ced to acknowledge the Thing to be necellary.
But why. I pray you; what is the Caute that
Spiritual Subſtance is not as intelligible as Cop-
poreal ?

K#oph. O Sir, there is a vaſt Difference in the
Caſe : I can fee azd feel the latter, but fo 1 cane
not the former.

Sehaſt. Nay, believe me, there you are ops :
You ſee and feel only the Accidents of a Bodily
Subſtance, bur not the Subſtance it (elf, no more
than you can ſee or feel a Spirit.

Bioph. Pardon me; at leaſt, | ſee and feal
the Bodily Subtance by the Accidents ; 3 That is,
L am aſſured of its Preſence and Exiſtence, ang
} can affirm. fuch Things of is vpoa, that Teſti:
mony of my Senſes.

Stbaft.

Part II. Conference. r79
Sebaſt. And you may affirm as much of a Soul,
(if you pleaſe) though you can neither ſee nor
feel it ; foraſmuch as you plainly perceive the
Properties and Operations of it,

Bioph. That is cloſe, and to the purpoſe, |
confe ; but Rjll. I cannot tell what to make of
this Thing called Spirit, for I can frame no I-
mage of it in my Imagination, as I can do of
other 'I hings.

Sebaſt. Why, there Is it naw. | perceive
now, Biophilus, you have a Dchre to fee with
your Mouth, and hear with your Eyes. For,
as reaſanably. every jot may you expect to da
either of thoſe, as to. frame a ſenkible Imagi-
pation of a Spirit, That which we cal Ima-
2ination, ( you know.) is nothing elſe hut the
Impreſs of the Colaur, Bigneſs, or ſome other
Accidents ( of a Fhing that hath been preſent-
ed. to our Senſes } retained in, and ( it may
be) a little diverſified by our Fancy. But
now, If a Spirit have De Coleur nor Bulk, nor
fuch other Accidents, to be repreſented to.our
Fancy,, through our outward Senfes, how is
it pofſible you. ſhawld, have any Image of it
there? No, 0; Spirituak Beings are only
capable of affording us an Intellectual ldea ;
Damely, our higher Faculty of Keaſon, from
Obſervation of - their Eftects and Operations;
concludes their Eilence, and takes an- Eſtimate
of their Nature.: Agd, indeed, it is. #ftat Con-
tradiction to require any other Evidence of that
king of Beings, |

Kioph. This kind of' Diſconrfe is, very {ubtile,
and I cannor tell whas to- objet farther to it :
Go-en- therefore to your Second Branch ;, per-
kaps there | may btier cope with! you.

N 2 Sebaſt,

i80 AW, inter- Evening Part II.

Sebaſt. The Second Step which [I take towards
the Proof of a Judgment to
The natural No- Come, is, That as on the one
— — of fide, Mankind appears to be fir
DIED. xpezz and capable of being judged
rhat he will judge hereafter ; ſo on the other hand,
the World. IT is agreeable to the Nature and
Attributes of God, and to thoſe
Notions we have of a Deity, that he ſhould call
the World to ſuch an Account. 'And this ap-
pears briefly thus :

The moſt common and moſt natural Notion
which Men have of the Divine Majeſty, is, That
he is a Being abſolutely perfect ; that is, (amongſt
other Accompliſhments) that he i Is a molt power-
ful, wiſe, juſt and good Being\: Fhere is hard-
ly any Body that thinks of a God, but conſiders
him under theſe Attributes and PerfeQions : and
he that diveſts him of any of theſe PerfeCtions,
renders him neither an Obje& of Fear, nor of
Love; and conſequently, not a God : Infomuch
that were it not for politick Ends, namely, to
avoid Infamy, or other Puniſhment, amongſt
Men, doubtleſs, thoſe that deny to him any of
theſe Attributes, had as good flatly deny him to
have any Being at all.

Now, if theſe Things be included in the na-
tural Notion of God, they not only capacitate
him to be a Judge of the World, if he pleaſes ;
but give great Allurance that he will doit. For,
if he be a wiſe Being, he cannot but ſee how
Things go ; and particularly, how his Creatures
carry themſelves here below. If he be power-
ful, he hath it in his Hand to reftifie thoſe Dif-
orders he obſerves amongſt them ; and both to
puniſh the Evil, and to rewar\] the Good. _

1

Part II, Conferencs; 181

if he be good and juſt, it cannot but be expeted
from lim, that he will ſer Things to rights one
Time or other, when his Wiſdom ſhall think
fit, Bur it is evident, this is not done exaQly,
and anſwerably to thoſe Attributes of his, in this
World ; therefore there is no Reaſon to doubt,
but he will aſſuredly do it in another World :
And therefore the Scripture tells us, He hath ap-
pointed a Day, wherein he will judge the World in
Righteouſneſs, &c.

Bioph, Not too faſt, good Sebaſtian. I know
not certainly what Apprehenſions other Men
may have; but for my part, thovgh I do ac-
knowledge a God, ( and that not only political-
ly (as you ſuſpe@t) but upon the Principles of
Reaſon ) yet 1 muſt profeſs to you, I do nor
think the natural Notion of God includes thoſe
Attributes you ſpeak of, Why may there not
be a God, and he only a neceſlary Agznt ? And
then there is no danger of an After-reckoning
with him.

Sebaſt, Ah, Biophilus, I am heartily forry to
find ſo unworthy a Notion of God ſtill to find
any Room in your Thoughts, ( though it were
bur in Suſpicion only.) lt is ve-
ry certain, indeed, that if he
be only a neceſlary Agent, then
all Fear of a Judgmenr is diſcharged ; and as cer-
tain, that all Religion can then be nothing elſe
but a groundleſs Superitition at the beſt. For,
then God muſt needs be a very tame Deity,
which Men may may play withal, and abuſe at
pleaſure ; as the Frogs did by their Wooden
King 1n the Fable.

But then, in the Name of Goodneis, what
need is there of any God at all, if a neceſſary

N 3 Agent

God not a nece/-
ſary Agent,

182 A Winter-Ewvening Part II.

Agent will ſerve the turn ? Why can we not as
well ſuppoſe the World to be Eternal, as make
ſuch a contemptible Being, as a neceffary Agent
is, to be Eternal, only to give Beginning to the
World.

Or rather, Why if we attribute one Perfection,
4, e. Eternity, to him, why not ail the reſt, which
ſeem to be inſeparable from it ? For as much as
it is not imaginable how the firſt Cauſe ſhould be
the meaneſt of all ; and he that gave thoſe other
PerfeCtions to other Things, ſhould be deſtitute
of them himſelf.

Or, How can we þelieve that fuch a fettered,
impotent, unthinking, and unwiſe Being ſhould
make a World in that Beauty and Perfeftion
which this World conliſts of ? Or, at leaſt, how
is it poſſible, that a natural or neceſſary Agent
( which is like a Gally-Slave chained down to his
Bench, and confined to his Task and Subject )
ſhauld make a World with ſuch Curioſity and Di-
verſity of Things, yet with that exquiſite Order
and Harmony which we obſerve in Nature ?

. Doyouthink that the Frame of Things could
not poſſibly. have been any otherwiſe than they
are? Can you fanke that nothing could have been
better not worſe than it is now ? If you fee any
Foot-ſteps of Wiſdom or Choice, any Poſlibility
that any Thing ſhould have been otherwiſe than
it is, ycu fore-go your neceſlary Agent.
- Do you hot ſee great and manifeſt Inſtances of
Deſign and Contrivance in the Order of Things,
6-4z3z. one Thing fitted to another, and one ſub-
ordinate to another, and ail together conſpiring
to ſome publick End and Uſe ? Now, ſure a ne+
ceſſary Agent eould not guide Things ſo, becauſe

It hath no Ends or Deſigns of its own.
WR, : | Again,

Part IT. Conference. 183

Again, If God be a neceſſary Agent, I would
fain be reſolved how it came to paſs that we are
not ſo tdo ? I think you granted me even now,
that we chuſe our own Way, propound Ends tb
our ſelves, and voluntarily purſue them, when
we could (if we pleaſed) as freely chuſe and
att contrary ; and this we juſtly glory in, as the
Perfeftion of our Nature. Now, how to con-
ceive that 1 ſhould be a free Agent, and that he
who made me ſo ſhould be a neceſlary one ; that
is, that the Effet ſhould be more excellent than
the Cauſe, neither I, nor ( as 1 ſuſpe& ) any Bo-
dy elle, can underſtand.

But I need not in this place indvſtriouſly ſet
my ſelf to confute this odd Conceit of God?s be-
ing only a neceſſary Agetit, becauſe in my Third
Branch I ſhall fundamentally undermine ir, and
( as I think ) leave neither Colour nor Pretence
for it ; and therefore, with your Leave, I now
haſten to that,

Bioph. Go on then, in God's Name.

Sebaſt, My Third and laſt Point for the Proof
of a Judgment to come is this ;

God doth actually exerciſe ſuch —Tyer? is an A-
a Providence in and over the quay Providence in
' this World: There-
World for the preſent, as gives #. yer will be
great Allurance that he will a Jidgmeit im the
judge it hereafter : For theſe next.
are, as it were, the two ſeveral
Ends of the ſame Chain ; a Providence here, and
a Judgment hereafter : They do Haturally and
mutually draw on each otner. If there be a
Judgment to come; there muſt be a provident
Eye over the World for the preſent, in order to
it; that is, God muſt ſs mind the World, that
he petfeftly underſtand how Things go, how-
N 4 Men

184 A Winter-Evening Part II.

Men carry themſelves, what there is amiſs a-
mongſt them, what requires Puniſhment, and
what deſerves a Reward ; otherwiſe che cannot
be ſaid to judge, foraſmuch As, without, this, it
might rather be ſaid, There is a Day © Execu-
tion coming, than a Day of Judgment. And on
the other ſide, if there be a Providence in this
World, and it be true that God obſerves how
Men carry themſelves towards him, it muſt ſpeak
his Intention to reward and puniſh hereafter, in
proportion to ſuch Obſervation ; for otherwiſe,
that Providence would be fruitleſs, and to no
purpoſe ; it would be a mere Matter of vain Cu-
Tioſity, and a needleſs Trouble to the Divine
Majeſty, as the Epicureans objefted. But now,
that God doth exerciſe ſuch a Providence in this
World, as from whence we may reaſonably pre-
ſage a Judgment to come, 1 think will abundant-
ly _—_ by theſe three Things :

. There hath been ſuch a Thing as we call
oobes, or Prediction of Things before they
came to paſs ; which cannot be without a Pro-
vidence,

2. There have been Miracles; which could
not be without the Divine Interpoſition.

3- There are frequent (thongh not alto-
gcther miraculous) Inſtances in all Ages, of
a Divine Preſence in, and Influence upon, the
Affairs of the World.

1. Firſt, I ground the Aſſer-

_ Frophery a cer- tjon of a Providence in this pre-
pamBars aa 4 ſent World upon the Prophecies
World. and Predictions of Things be-
fore-hand, which have been ve-

rified by real EffeQs in their reſpeAtive Times
and Seaſons. Ir is evident, that ——_
able

Part Il. Conference. 185

able certainly to fore-tell Things before they
are, muſt ſee through all the Series of Cauſes
which produce ſuch Events; eſpecially, if he
define alſo the preciſe Time, and other Circum-
ſtances of the Accompliſhment: But, above all,
whoſoever ſhall declare before-hand, not only
what ſhall come to paſs according to the Courſe
of natural and neceſſary Cauſes, but alſo ſuch
Things as are caſual and contingent, or ſubject
to the Choice and Indifferency of free and volun-
tary Agents, muſt have a mighty Reach with him,
and make a very curious and accurate Inſpetion
into the ConjunCttions and Conſpiracy of all
Things, as well as into their particular Natures,
Tendencies, and Inclinations : For, as every Ef-
fe muſt have its Cauſes before it can be, ſo the
Prediftion of ſuch Effect muſt depend upon a
certain Knowledge of thoſe reſpetive Cauſes
which are pregnant of it. Therefore if there
ever have been ſuch a Thing as Prophecy, there

Is a Providence. |
Now for the Matter of Fact ; or, that&here
have been certain and punQual Predictions of
Things long before they came to pals, is the
conſtant Belief of all Nations ;. and he that de-
nies it, muſt give the Lye to the greateſt and
beſt part of Mankind. You may remember
that Taly purſues this Argument in his Books,
De Drumarione;, and he there gives too many
and too remarkable Inſtances of it, to be denied
or eluded : But I ſhall chuſe to ſet before you
only two Paſlages out of the holy Scripture, te
this purpoſe. For, though | perceive you have
not ſuch a Reverence for thoſe Books as they
deſerve, yet ſuch palpable Matters of Fatt as I
thall inſtance in, ard which were of ſo publick
a Con-

186 A Winter-Ewening Part Il,

a Concern, and getieral Notice, as whereupon
the Revolution of whole Nations depended, can
afford no Ground for calling in queſtion the Hi-
ſtorical Truth of them. And ler me tell you, ]
make choice of theie Inſtances out of thoſe Wri+
tings, for no other Cauſe but for the Notoriety
of the Fatt, and the Eafineſs of Confitation, if
it had been otherwiſe than true.

The former of the two Paſlages is the Pre-
diction'of the Slavery of the Children of 1/+aet
in the Land of Egypr, and their miraculous De-
liverance thence, above Four Hundred Years be-
fore it came to paſs; and the Accompliſhment
(when the Time came ) anſweting the Predi-
ion preciſely to a very Day, fo as to be ob-
ſerved by the whole Body of the People; and
the Remembrance of it perpetuated by an Anni-
verſary Solemnity evet after : AS you may ſee,
Exod, xi). 41.

The other Inſtance is, the Bebyloniſh Captivi-
ty, which was fore-told above Seventy Yeats be-
fore it came to pals; and that In a Time of ths.
greateſt ynlikelihood that any fuch Calamity
fhbuld befall z namely, it was propheſied of when
the Ferhs were in the greateſt Peace and Proſpe-
tity. Aud ther! for the Term of this Captivity,
that was fore-told to laſt Seventy Years, neither
more hor leſs. And both theſe Periods ( as well
as other Circumſtances) were exactly, afhd th
Admiration, hit in the Event of Things.

Now in both theſe Inſtances, the Things were
propheſied of ſo long before-hand, there were
ſo niany Obſtacles in the Way of their Accom-

liſhment, and ſo much of the Will of Man alſo
ntereſted in both the Caſes; and yer notwith-

Randing, ſuch punctual ExaCtneſs is to be ſect
if

Part II. Conference. i837

in the Event, that it is plainly impoſſible that
Humane Wit ſhould fo mach as gueſs probably at
them; therefore the Preditions mult be ground-
ed upon Divine {ntimation : And then God is {a
far from being a necellar: Agent, that it is appa-
rent he minds the World, and looks narrowly
into all the Parts of it, from one End to another,
and governs and manages Inferior Cauſes,

2. My Second Proof of an Actual Providence

in this World, is, from Mira- as a
cles. By a Miracle I mean, a- , J”
ny Thing coming to paſs which ++ Ara nr
is, either for the Matter or _
Manner of it, above the Power of natural Cau-
ſes, or, at leaſt, contrary to their eſtabliſhed
Courſe and Order ; whether it be effeted by
heightning them above their ordinary Pitch, or
accelerating their Motion, or by ſuddenly bring-
ing thoſe Cauſes together which lay at a diſtance z
or whether it be by depreſling, ſuſpending, or
ſuperſeding any of them. -

And 1 reaſon thus : If any Thing have ever
been brought to paſs above the Capacity, or out
of the Method of the natural and common Cau-
ſes, then there is an Attive Deity which exerts
his Power in that Caſe. Or if ever the Courſe
of Nature hath been interrupted, it muſt be by
the Interpoſition of the Supreme Cauſe: For it
is neither intelligible that Nature ſhould po out
of Courſe of it ſelf, without its own Decay and
Failure z nor poſſible that being once ſo out of
Courſe, it ſhould ever be able to retover it ſelf
into its former Order, without the help of Onm-
nipotency. Therefore if ever there _have been
4 Miracle in the World, there is Proof of a Pre-
vidence.

| Now

188 A I|W. ihter-Evening Part II.

Now, that ſuch extraordinary Things as we
here ſuppoſe, have happened, cannor be doubt-
ed without great Ignorance, or denied without
Impudence. I know there is a ſort of witty
Men, ( in thetr Way ) who endeavour to put a
Slight upon \Miracles, and therefore are very
captious and critical in ſuch Caſes as this ; bur
if they can elude ſome Occurrences that have
been believed or pretended miraculous, yet they
will never be able to evade them all. And if
there have been but one zcknowledged Miracle
in all the Time of this World, it will be ſuffi-
cient to prove a Providence. They will, per-
haps, impnte ſome Cures that have been ſaid to
be done by Miracle, to the Efficacy of ſome Me-
dicine ; although they can neither tel] us what
that Specifick Remedy was, nor much leſs tel] us
how the Symptoms ſhould ſo ſuddenly ceaſe up-
on the Uſe of it. It may be they will tell you
in the general, ( with Confidence enough ) that
the ſtrange Things done in Egypt, and in the
Wilderneſs, were effedted by the ſudden Appli-
cation of Actives to Paſſives; but cannot ſo much
as pretend to ſatisfie any Man, how ſuch remote
Cauſes were brought together, and exalted to
ſuch an extraordinary Degree of Efficacy, as to
produce ſuch admirable Effets on the ſudden as
thoſe Cauſes import.

Or if they could ſpeak tolerable Senſe in ſome
of thoſe Particulars, yet what natural Account
can be given of the Raiſing of the Dead, or of
nnlearned Men's ſpeaking all kind of Languages
in an Inſtant ? What natural Cavſe will they aſ-
ſign of the Sun's ſtanding ſtill in Joſhna's Time ?
Or of that preter-natural Eclipſe at our Saviour's

Paſſion ? What could intercept the Sun's Light,
when

Part Il. Conference. 139

when the two Luminaries were in Oppoſition ?
Or what reſtored it to its Motion again, when
it was interrupted, as in the former Inſtance ?
Or to its Light again, when it intermitted, as
in the latter Inſtance? To endeavour to give
natural Accounts of theſe Things, will prove
as abſurd and ridiculous to Reaſon, as to de-
ny the Matter of FaCt is void of Faith and Re-
ligion.

Bur if any of theſe Inſtances will not paſs
with ſuch Men becauſe they were over long be-
fore our Time, or becauſe the Truth of them
depends upon the Authority of Scripture, there
are other innumerable Paſlages in all Ages, not
liable to that Exception, that cannot be re-
ſolved into any Cauſe Jeſs than a Supreme and
Omnipotent. Amongſt which, What will they
fay to this, which happens almoſt every Year ;
namely, That after a long wet Seaſon, it ſhall
ſuddenly clear up, and be Fair Weather again ?
And contrariwile, after a long dry Seaſon, it
ſhall unexpeRtedly be Wet and Rainy ? Where-
as, if they look only to Natural Canſes, the
quite contrary muſt happen: Foraſmuch as the
more Rain hath been at any Time, the more
may be ſtill; becauſe there are the more Va-
pours, from whence Clouds are raiſed : And the
longer a dry Seaſon hath laſted, there is every
Day the leſs Reaſon to expe Rain ; becauſe
there want Vapours, out of which it ſhould
be raiſed. Now, to impute this ſudden and
admirable Change only to the Winds, is to beg
the Queſtion ; for it is well enough known,
that the Winds depend upon Vapours, as well
aS Rain. And to aſcribe it to the Stars, is to
confeſs an humourſome Reſolution, that, right

or

199 A Winter-Exening _ PartIE.

or Wrong, We will bus God out of the World.
But this leads me to my |
| 3. Third Proof of a preſent
4 Ore ray md Providence, viz. From the more
Hfances of * Py" frequent and ordinary loſtances
World, of a Divine Inflvence ypon the
| Affairs of the World. The Et-
fects of which,though they are not accounted mi-
raculous, becauſe they are common, yet they give
ſufficient lngication of Divine Adminiſtration.
And of this kind, there arc ſo many which offer
thenclyes te an obſervant Ming, that to feek
Elaws, an& g9: about Fo, make ſpecious.ObjeCtions
againſt fone few of them, will be rather ao Ar-
gument of refolved Unwillingseb to believe, than
of any juſt Grougds of lafidelity. Fors, liks as.in
2 gxcat Cable, made up. of ſeveral ſmaller Cords,
if perchance ſome of the Threads ſhould flaw or
break, jei.the Remainges will be-avle to beer the
Streſs of whatſoever UE it fall be put to,

Now, under this; Head Ereekon, in the firſt
place, as. very obfervalle, that there is fearcely
any greai thing ever brayght about in the World,
which God may got. be-ſeen to-bave an Hand in:
And: that maybe collefted generally: from the In-
adequateneſs.of the vighle Meansto moſt notable
ProduRions. As; when great Preparations: are
defeated or laid 2fide, and mean: andh inconſider-
able ones de.the BuGngſs, This is that which So-
lomon obſerved long ago, that the Barteh is not to
the Strong, 107 the Race to the Smift,, nor Bread to
Aden of Underſbandjug © And. we cannot want an
Example for it nearer hand, when we remamber
the Reſtauration of K. Chanisg Ib. For & pleaſed
God to.deal: in that Particular, as; he didj by Gz-
dons Army, when he difmilied the greateſt pau

(0)

pw Atty a4 — WT) © at OT OOT——Y —_—_ oO 9h

Part If, Confereuce, I9t

of the Forces, and did his Byſineſs with a few,
and thoſe very unlikely for ſuch an Atchievment,

But more admirable than this, is, the Preſfer-
vation of the Holy Scripture in all Ages ; both
from total Abolition, by the Flames of Perſecu-
tion 3 and from Corruption, by the capricious
Fancies of fuch Men as would neither fincerely
believe it, gar abſolutely reject jr. Such alſo is
the Preſervation of the Chriſtian Religion, when
all the Wit, and all the Power of the Warld
combined together againſt it : And ſuch was the
Syccels of the Apoſtles in propagating that Reli-
gion, and planting the Chriſtian Church ; whea
2 few Fiſher-men leavened the World with a Da-
{trine quite againſt the Grain of it, and Naked
Truth prevaikd againſt Authority, Art and In-
tereſt, in ConjunMion.

Hitherto alſo. 1 reduce the Maintenance of
Magiſtracy, and Civil Government : And I logk
upoR it as a ſtagding Evidence of a Providence
that the Grang Bands of wicked and refraftary
Men ſhoyld ſtand in awe of a ſingle Man, like
themſelves, only becauſe he is inveſted with
Authority. This, if it be duly conſidered, is
very ſtrange, and can be reſolved into nothing
but a Providence, . Nor is it Iefs ſtrange, that,
conſidering the great Numbers of evil Men,
their Secrecy. and Cloſenefs, their Cynning and
Falſhood, their Eavy and Neceſlity, their Ati-
vity apd Selfiſhneſs, they ſhould bg able to do no
more Hurt in the World than they do. Why
do they not aſſaflinate whom they. pleaſe ? Or
What is the Reaſon that they do not forſweer
Men out of their Lives and Fortunes, and at
whatioever their Revenge, or Coxetouſneſs, or
Luſt ſhall prompt them to? Ang no Account a

e

192 A Winter-Evening Part.

be given of this, but the powerful Reſtraint of
Providence.

Moreover, There are remarkable Examples in
all Ages of evil Men, dogged by their own Guilr,
and tortured by their own Conſciences, when-
as no Body elſe either accuſed or hurt them.
And, on the other ſide, as frgquent Inſtances of
vertuous Men, who have been very comforta-
ble under great Difficulties, and whoſe Spirits
have been born up with an admirable Bravery
under ſuch Preſſures as would ordinatily cruſh
and ſink other Men: And this, although the
Perſons thus carrying themſelves, were other-
wiſe of no remarkable Strength or Courage.
Neither of which Paſlages can be reſolved into
any other Cauſes, than the mighty Influence of a
Providence.

Nay, farther: It is very obſervable, how
ſtrangely ſometimes ſecret Sins are brought to
light, eſpecially ſuch as Murther and Treachery,
and where all Arts and Advantages were made
uſe of for Concealment ; ſuch Perſons becoming
their own Accuſers, when no Body elſe could do
it for them ; and not unuſually their own Exe-
cutioners t00.

Above all theſe, there are ſome Inſtances of
Vengeance befalling very flagitious Men, ſo ſig-
nally, and with ſuch pat and ſignificant Cir-
cumſtances, that ( without any Uncharitable-
neſs) we may be led by the Suffering, to the
Sin; as in the famous Caſe of Adonibezek, Judg.
i. 7. whoſe barbarous Uſage of Threeſcore and
Ten Kings, cutting off their Thumbs and Great
Toes, and making them, like Dogs, gather their
Meat under his Table, was re-paid upon him-

ſelf, in the fame Severity. Of kind to which
are

xz ak |

eo ow & Gu » Y

6s

e>

Part IF. + . Conference. 4 93

are thoſe Panick Fears, and Shiverings, that of-
tentimes attend Blood-guilty Men . as Jong as
they live: And though they-may have eſcaped
Revenge from the Hand of Men, yet this, as, a
Cair”s Mark ſet upon them by the Hand of God,
indelibly ſticks by them, and follows them to
their Graves. Rn. |
It is needleſs to ſay any thing more on this
Subject, for as-much. as every Man that doth not
wilfully ſhut: his Eyes, may colle& Inſtances to
this purpoſe, - both from the Government of the
World in general, and froin. his own Fortunes
in particular, For, beſides the quiet Serenity
and Confortableneſs (in token of. the Divine
Favour ) which uſually attends a vertuous Courſe
of Life ; and the Anxiety, Torment and Unea-
ſineſs, which as frequently ( in teſtimony of the
Divine Diſ-like ) attends a wicked and flagitious
one 3 it is not-a very unuſual, nor-{ to be ſure )
an unpleaſant Sight, to, behold the former crow-
ned with fignal Succeſs, and Worldly Proſperi-
ty; and thelatter puniſhed with Shame and Beg
gary. And this ſometimes ſhall happen. in {ſuch
Circumſtances, when there is nothing towhich
this different Succeſs can be imputed, but mere-
ly Divine Providence; for as much as. the latter
thall otherwiſe be more cunning; for the World,
and every whit as induſtrious and frugal as the
former : But Divine Providence-only makes the
Diſcrimination, whilſt the one is,under the Bleſ-
ling of Heaven, and the other is apparently blaſt»
ed and curſed. - | : 41
And now what think you, Biophilus, upon the
whole Matter ?; Have I not acquitted my felf in
all the Three Things | propounded ?, And now,
laying all theſe Things together, is not here ſyt-
| O | ficient

T063 A Winer Evening Part 1l,

ficient Evidence to determine a priident Man- in
the Cafe, and to ſatisfie Him that there is a Pro-
vidente in this World ; and ———y; that
there will be @ Judgment hereafter ?
2Bjoph. 1 cannot tel}, Sebaſt4ay. - t confeſs, you
Fave ſaid frrany very "conſiderable Things ; and
ſome of them beyond what I could have expect-
&d in the Cafe. But I have bne main Objettion,
which eſpecially-'touches the laſt Branch of
_— Arguthent ; #nd which, if it ſtick by you,
all you have Fad will f Enifie nothing ; but if
you come 'eJearty eff from it, 1 fhall not know
What to think of the Buſineſs, It is this, in
Mott: 1446 n6t ſee any ſuch fetted* aud conſtant
Method it the Management of the AFfairs of this
World, as mult neceſſarily ar-
2 Vindititiin tf, te/a Providence. - 'For, in pars
Divine Privijee remlar, norwirhſtatiding all you
| a Sd have (aid; ic cahnet- be Yenied,
ſations in MIY Life, '\fthat very vfeen the beſt of Men
"ite 'opprelied; and: born down
by ill Fortune ; ant cortrariwiſe, evit Men are
very happy and profpetois. Therefort it- may
ſeem mn thoſe Piſtarces which you'eotedt in fa-
vour of your Opinion; friey happmm by Chante;
rather thin by the TIHPeh (ation of 4 Providence:
and then, if 'thitre be fb Providetice i this
Word; "by" Yaur own Aygiiment, there 'E#n be
ho of yy off ett fietetfter,” 7 11
Miſs. aþ \JÞ*Yhat-be #11, br ithe Abln of what
yob' 426 Vet; 1'8m'in pete fee: fotfit
good Iſſue of this Conference: Foe;- if the Hielt
Price, you How; hat which i5:impeaced: by
this ObjettionZi99bar- effec! gle Inface, ore
nity Which Lttave brogpht for the2Aflertioh of
A ! Providence 4 ghd eonftgariitly, if this Biuuld

fail,

Part IT. Conference. 195

fail, or if I ſhould yield you all that the Obje-
ion pretends ts; yet ſo long as the other are
unſhaken by it, that great DoCtrine may ſtand
firm notwithſtanding : For it is but as if you
ſhould pick one fingle Stone ont of an huge
Building, or (as 1 faid before) find a Flaw in
ſome one Thread of a great Cable ; neither of
which can weaken or endanger the one, or the
other. But then, befides ; you cannot be igno-
rant that this which you now mention 1s an
old, thredd-bare Exception, worn out of all
Faſhion by the old Atheiſts and Epicareans, and
which hath been canvafſed and baffled over and
over by Men of all Ages, and of ſeveral Per-
ſuaſions z by Job, by David, by Solomon ; nay,
by Tally, Seneca, Plutarch, and ſeveral others ;
that it is a great Argument of the Poverty of
your Cauſe to be ſen int it now-a-days, and may
jſthy excufe my. Labour itt confuting #t. Hows-
ever, becauſe yoo think fit to give it Counte-
nance, I will briefty-fay thefe Three Things in
the Caſe ; vit.

Firſt, Thar ſome Meafure of Intricacy or Ob-
fcurity in the Difpenfation of Divine Providence,
is no Argument againſt it, but for it,

Secotidly, That there 2re very great Reaſons
aſſignable, why it may pteaſe the Divine Majeſty
to proceed foinetimes indiſcriminately, and keep
no conſtant viſible Method in the Diſtributions
of Good and Evil in this-prefent Life.

Ekitdty, Yet, bowever this be ſometimes
obſcuxe, there are at other Times ſufficiens
and kegible Ihftances of a diſtingaiſhing Pro-
vidence. |

Firſt, Some Meafare of Intricacy in the Dif-
penſations of Divine Providence, is fo far from

O 2 being

196 A Winter-Evening Part II.

being an Argument againſt it, that it is a great
Argument for it, For, if we do not make God
a mere neceſſary Agent, ( which I hope I have
ſatisfied you in ) we mult allow ſomething to
his Prerogative and Sovereignty ; and conſe-
Guently, grant that he may do ſome Things,
becauſe he will do ſo, and whereof he doth not
make us acquainted with the Reaſons: And we
may very well allow to his Wiſdom, to have a
Reach beyond us, and to have other Meaſures to
govern the World by, than we could have made
for him. What ! Shall we call God to an Ac-
count of his Management ? Shall he not go-
vern the World at all, unleſs he order it juſt
as we would have him ? This is apparently
fo far from being reaſonable that it would be
much more ſo to conclude on the contrary ;
namely, that if there were no Depths in the
Divine Counſel which we could not fathom,
no Meanders in the Way of Providence which
we could not trace, it would be very ſuſpt-
cious whether there were any thing of Di-
vinity in_ the whole Buſineſs. For if Things
were-conſtantly managed one Way, without a-
ny Variation, we ſhould be apt to think all was
under the rigid Laws of a fatal Neceſſity. If,
'on the other ſide, there were no Rule to be ob-
ſerved, no Foot-ſteps of any Method, then-we
ſhould be tempted to think Chance ruled the
World. But when we obſerve an Intermixture
of theſe two, viz. that there is a Rule, though
there be ſome Exceptions from it, then we have
Reaſon to conclude, that all is under a powerful
and a free Agent, who, if he be alſo infinitely
wiſe, cannot but ſee Reaſon for ſeveral Things,
which we cannot comprehend,

Secondly,

Part II, Conference, 197

Secondly, There are very great and weigh-
ty Reaſons aſſgnable, why, in this particular
Inſtance of Providence, ( namely, in the Diſtri-
bution of Good and Evil in this World ) the Di-
vine Majeſty ſhould not be obliged to gratifie our
Curioſity with a plain Account of his Proceed-
ings, but make ſome Exceptions to his General -
Rule: Among(t which, theſe following are con-
ſiderable.

Firſt, Becanſe ſuch a conſtant and viſible Ex-
erciſe of diſtributive Juſtice, as your ObjeQtion
ſeems to require, would be ſuch an irrefragable
and palpadle Evidence of a Providence, as would
leave no Room for the Diſcovery of Ingenuity,
or 2 vertuous Diſpoſition : It would deprive Men
of the Liberty of their Choice, whether they
would be Atheiſtical, or devour and religious ;
and conſequently, there would be no Excellency
in Piety and Vertue. for ( as | have ſaid before,
in a like Caſe ) it would bez no Argument of Love
to God or Goodneſs, that a Man took Care to
ſerve and pleaſe God, if he conſtantly ſtood
over us in a viſible and undeniable Providence
ſo as that every Offender were taken in every
Fatt, and preſently led to Execution ; and, on
the other ſide, if every vertuous Action were
forthwith rewarded and crowned. In ſhort, It
is not agreeable to the Mind of God, to over-
run the Freedom of our Choice, ſince he hath
endowed us with it; nor to ſuperſede that diſtin-
tive Faculty of our Nature ; for ſhould he do
ſo, he ſhould att contrary to himſelf, and to his
own Glory, as well as to the Nature and Condt-
tion of Mankind.

Again, Secondly, a checkered and diver-
hed Method of Divine Providence, wherein

4 O 3 there

198 A Winter-Exvening Part I.

there is an Intertexture of Proſperity and Ad-
verſity in the Fortunes of vertuous Men, tends
moggto their 'mprovement than a mare regular
and conftant Providence would do. For, as a
continaed Courſe of Proſperity is tao apt ta
tempt Men to be wantan and carelels ; ſa a per-
petual Series of Adveriity would be as apt ta
ſink and depreſs thejr Spirits: But a Middle
Way of Interchange in their Condition, balan-
ces them on both Sides, and maintains them in
a more even Temper and Converſation. And
for this Reaſon it pleaſes the Divine Wiſdom to
make ſuch falſe Steps, as-you are apt to imagine
them to. be.

To which add, in the Third Place, That here-
in lies the yery Secret of Divine Wiſdom ; and
by this very Way he doth moſt effectually atlyre
us of the Point in queſtion, ( namely, a Judg-
ment to come ) an that there is ſach apparent ne-
ceſlity of it. For if the Divine Majeſty ſhould
let the preſent Warld run at random, and inter-
poſe himſelf in no Caſe to check the Hurry, and
puniſh the Diſorder, there would ſeem no Reg-

n to expect Jultice from him hereafter, who
gave no Token of it all this while : And then, on
the other ſide, if he interpaſed ſo frequently and
conſtantly, as to leaye no Irregularity wnpuniſh-
ed,nor any'braveAction unrewarded,there would
be no Buſineſs left, nor no aced of a Day of Judg-
ment, Whezeas, by affoxding us ſame plain 1n-
ſtances of his Diſcrimination wn this World, we
are {atisfied that he minds how Things go, and
is able to judge; and yet, by permitting ſeveral
other Things to run riot, and feemingly to be
unanimadyerted upon, he hath, as it were, cut

out Wark tar a Dey of Jydgment.
Go .. | | Thirdly,

Part IF. Conference. 199

Thirdly, Notwithſtanding alt this, as I faid
befqre, there. are ſome ſufficient aud ugdenia-
ble Inſtances of a diſtinguiſhing Providence in
this World, } have granted to you, that
ſometimes the Ways of Gad are intricate and
invglved ; and I haye offered at ſome Rea-
ſons of it, to which: many others might havg
bzen added ; and, amongftt the reſt, ' that by
this means we may be kept humble and mo-
deſt, and taught to admire and revexence God,
rather than to judge or pronounce of him.
For theſe, I ſay, and other Reaſons, beſt
known to Infinite Wiſdom, he thinks fit ſame-
times to loſe ys in the Meander of his Ways:
Yet, I ſay, they are not always thus ohicuse ;
but, ſometimes he treads ſuch plain and dizect
Paths, that we may eaſily follow him. And
of this I have ſet before you ſeveral Examples
already z and whoſoever will diligently attend
to it, may eaſily collett more: But I will not
omit to put you in mind of one great ſland-
Ing one, and (as fay ay is poſſible } beyang
all Exception; and that was in the Hiſtory
of the Fewiſb Nation, who were infallibly fureg
to be happy, and moſt remarkably proſperous,
ſo lang as they ſtuck to the true God, and
the Laws he had given them by 44uſes ; and
as ſure to be ſignally miſerable and calami-
tus, whenſoeyer they apaſtatized from their
God, or depauched their Religion. So that
that People was placed as 2a Light upan g
Moquntzin, and were an jllaftrious laſtznce yo
all the World of that great Fruth we are
now diſcqurizg of; and if there were no
more Inſtances of this kind, that alone would

be ſufficient for the pyrpaſe.
O 4 " DBiopb.

200 A Winter. Evening Part I.

Fioph. 1 muſt- confeſs, if the Story be true,
there was -a very ſtrange Fate attended that
People, |

Sebaſt.” Fate, do you call it > What Colour or
Pretence in the World is there for imputing thoſe
admirable Revolutions to Fate ? Could blind
Fate make Diſtintion of- Perſons: and Actions,
and apply it ſelf #1 the Diſtribution of Good or
Evil, in proportion to Men's Deſerts or Miſcar-
riages ? Do not diſparage your own Diſcretion
ſo much, as to uſe the Word Fate in ſuch a Caſe,
No; aſlure your felf, that was a ſignal Diſplay
of Divine Providence ; and ſuch an one, as you
cannot expect or demand a greater.

Bioph. But if it were the Effet of Providence,
as you will needs have it, I wonder how it comes
to paſs that there is no ſuch Thing now ; or why

Les all the reſt of Mankind was neg-
SHES s , ye tefted by Divine Providence, and
Jes. only that People, and in that

Age and Corner of the World,
ſo carefully managed by it. |

: Sebaſt. © Biophilws, ask not God an Account
of his Prerogative, nor much leſs preſcribe to
him how he ſhall govern the World, What if
he, 'pitying the dark State of the World then,
did ſomething extraordinary, to relieve and en-
Itzghten it ? And what if, having once given ſuch
abundant Proof of himſelf, he ſhall think that
jufficient to all After-Apes ? Or, to ſay no more,
What if it pleaſes him to make Faith, in ſome
ReſpeAs, more difficult now, than it was then ?
Who ſhall expoſtulate the Matter with him, eſpe-
cially fince he hath nor left us deſtitute of ſufficient
Grounds todetermine a prudent Man in the Caſe ?
Which is all I have pretended to aſſert all this

B41 while,

Part II. Conference. 201

while, and I think I have made it good at laſt,
though-with ſome Tediouſneſs of Diſcourſe, for
which I beg your Pardon.

Phil. Dear Sebaſtian, do not {lander onr Judg-
ments ſo much, as to ſuſpect we ſhould think any
Thing tedious that is ſo much to the purpoſe.
I thank you heartily for the Pains you have ta-
ken with us; for, alchough (1 thank God) I
have long lived under a firm Perſuaſion, both of
a Providence here, and a Judgment hereafter ;
yet lam greatly rejoiced to find all ſure under
me, and when my Reaſon encourages my Devo-
tion : And eſpecially, | think my ſelf obliged to
you for the SatisfaCtion you have given my Neigh-
bour. Is it not ſo, Biophilus ?

Bioph. | tell you plainly, Sebaſtian hath ſtag-
gered me; and I cannot tell what to ſay more
for the preſent ; but I will conſider farther of ir
at leiſure.

Phil, Ay, but do it quickly, good Biophilzs :
You Sceptical Gentlemen are apt to take too
long Time to conlider of theſe Matters. You
know, die we muſt, and that ſhortly too ; ſo
that we have not any long Time to conſider in.
What an horrible Surprize would it be, if whilſt
we ſtand doubting and diſputing, we ſhould hear
the Sound of the laſt Trump, and be ſummoned
to that great Tribunal ? When Death once ar-
reſts us, there is no Bail will be taken ; we muſt
come to a ſtrit Account, and a-wait an irrever-
ible Doom. So that there is no dallying in this
Matter,

' If either of us had Intelligence that an Enemy
were coming upon us, with deſign to aſſault ns,
and take away our Life, although it were a Per-
ſan of but ordinary Reputation that brought ns

". the

202 A Winter-Evening Part IL.

the News, yet it would ſtartle us, and we ſhquld
not ſtand difputing the Truth of the Relation,
but preſently either prepare our ſclves to ap-
peafe him, or arm our ſelves to encourter him ;
and then, if no Enemy appeared, we could fe-
curely expoſtulate the falſe Alarm afterwards,
Or if there came a Report, that the Sea had
broken its Banks, and overflowed the Plain
wherean our Houles ſtand, 1 aſſure my ſelf, that
neither of us would ſtand gravely deliberating,
whether it were poflible, or no; or cavilling
about the Neglect of repairing the Banks ; or,
teaſt of all, laſe ſo much Time as whilſt we
could ſend Meſlengers, and expett their Retyrno ;
but firſt get us up ta the Mountains, and there
at leiſure inform qyr ſelves of the Tryth of all
Circumſtances.

When Noab, for no leſs than One Hundred
and Twenty Years together, preached Repen=
ance, and fore-told a Flood coming te drown
all the World, no queſtion but the Generality of
Men laughed at him, as a timerous, Hypochon-
driacal Perſon : They could objet how unyſaal
2 Thing it was he valked of; a Thing that no
Man had ſeen, or had ever happencd to the
World befare : They would diſcourſe Philoſo-
phically in the Caſe tag, and repreſent it as a
very abſurd Thing to imagine, that the Water
ſhould riſe above the Earth, and oyer-flow the
Tops of their ſtately Houſes ; for ( might they
Tay) where ſhall there be Water enough to do
it? From whence ſhould it come ? Or how
ſhould this Fellow have Notice of it before all
other Men? And perhaps they wauld conclude,
that, at worſt, they ſhould have Time to ſhift
for themſelves when they ſee it come in earneſ,
an

Part II. Conference. 203

and eſcape as well a5 athers. Hereupan they ate,
and drank, and feaſted, and made merry ; ane
laughed at that preciſe Coxcomb, with his new
Machine of an Ark : But ns aur Savigur,
ſhalt the Coming of the Son of Map be.

Alas, Biophulag / Whilſt we dream, the Judge
ment {lymbers nat z whilſt we daybt ang dit-
pute, God is in earneit: And the Time draws
on apace, when Chriſt Jeſus, the Judge of the
Warld, ſhall come #» the coy of bu Father, and
af all the hgly cls : The Heayens ſhall then
melt away, and the Earth be on fire, from one
End of it to another : The Dead ſhall riſe out of
their Graves, and make an huge Allembly ; The
Books of all Men's Aftians ſhall be opened, and
the Devil, together with every Man's awn Con-
ſcience, ſhall be the Accuſers. Then ſhall all
thoſe that are conſcious to themſelves to have
lived vertyouſly and halily, look up with Joy
and Comfort to ſe their Saviour become their
Judge ; to find a Vindication from all thoſe ug-
jult Cenſures that have paſled upon them here
below ; to come to an End of their Lahaurs, a
Reward of their Services, the Accompliſhneng
of their Faith and Hopes, Lord! What Jay
will be in their Countenances! What Glory up-
on their Heads! How the Angels (mile upon
them, and welcome them £9 their Journeys Eng,
2nd Heaven opens in an admirable Scene af Light
and Glory to receive them !

But, on the other ſide, all that are privy to
themſelves to have lived wickedly, baſely, and
unprofitably, ſhall look pale, and tremble, «ud
gall upon the Racks and HMountaws to hide them foo
the E age of the Lamb that fats wpon the Throne ;, for
they ſhall fre all black and difmal about them ;

no

204 AW inter-Evening Part [l.

no Tears will move Pity, no Rhetorick wiil per-
fuade, no Excuſes will be admitted, no Appeal
allowed, no Refuge to be found, nor Reprieve
to be hoped for ; but they ſhall hear that dread-
ful Sentence, Depart Accurſed into everlaſting Fire,
prepared for the Devil and h1s Angels; and ſhall ſee
Hell open her Mouth to receive them into ur«
quenchable Flames.

Bioph. 1 proteſt, you ſpeak with ſuch Feeling,
Philander, that your Diſcourſe hath more Power
upon me, than all the Arguments that ever [
heard in my Life: And I know not what is the
matter, but my Heart trembles ; therefore let
me once more intreat you to adjourn the Re-
mainder of this Diſcourſe till another Time, and
in the mean while Pl] conſider of it, as I pro-
miſed you.

Phil, Ah, dear Neighbour ! Do not prove
like that unhappy Felix in the Scripture ; do not
£2 about to elude what you cannot evade : No,
put not off this Buſineſs a Moment longer. Now
that it ſeems God hath touched your Hearr,
quench not his Holy Spirit ; it may be, you will
never be in ſuch a Temper again, if you loſe this
Opportunity.

Bioph. I aſſure you, I like this Temper C as
you call it ) ſo well, that I do not deſire to feel
more of it. But if you are reſolved to go on
to torment me, 1 pray do me the favour firſt to
anſwer me this Queſtion. If theſe Thing be ſo
as you repreſent them, how comes it to pals,
that Men unconcerned about Religion, die as
comfortably many times as any others ?* The
Reaſon of my Queſtion is this ; becauſe you will
pretend, that whilſt Men are well in Health,
and ſwimming with the Tide of Proſperity,

| they

Part IE. Conference. 205

they may either artificially put off the Thoughts
of theſe Things, though they be true ; or the
Noiſe of Buſineſs, and the Careſles of their Sen-
ſes, may obſcure all Apprehenſion of another
World. But ſure, when Men find themſelves
dying, and that there is but one Way with them,
it ſhould be too late for them to flatter them-
ſelves, or to admit of the Flatteries of others ;
then ſurely Prejudices ceaſe, and Men are at lei-
ſure to think : The Glory of the World cannot
dazzle their Eyes, when it is leaving them, and
they it. What then, I ſay, can be the Reaſon,
if theſe Things be true, ( which you ſpeak ſo af-
fetionately of ) that there is not

as remarkable a Difference in #9» :t comesto
Men's Temper of Spirit when po amy
they come to die, as there ſeems null, in the laſt AF
to be in their Converſation of Men's Lives.
whilſt they are alive ?

Sebaſt. | apprehend your Queſtion very well,
and the Reaſons of your asking it too. And for
Anſwer to it, I pray tell what is the Reaſon
that Men that love their Health and their Eſtates
both very well, will nevertheleſs be Drunkards,
and Whore-maſters, and Gameſters ; though
they ſee by daily Experience, that theſe are very
ſure Methods to out them of both ? You will
tell me, I ſuppoſe, that they feed themſelves
with abſurd and unreaſonable Hopes, which fool
their Diſcretion; or that they are bewitched and
beſotted with thoſe kind of Pleaſures, and fo
conſider nothing at all. Why, juſt ſo it is
here: The Things we ſpeak of are undoubtedly
true, and the Miſcarriage in them is fatal ; but
Men are careleſs and incogitant, and lip into
the Pit of DeſtruCtion before they are 4

ey

206 A Wimer-Evening Parcll.

Fhey live tfiertily, becauſe they never think of
CE 3 and they Elie as ſottifhly as they
ved. |

Again, there is another fort of Men that are
captions and conceited, who will chop Logick,
as we ſay, with God Almighty ; they will have
not oily their Reaſon ſttkfted; but their Curio-
Sty Ho, of they will hot Helieve ;- they muſt
fee 2 Spirit; tad Heaven, and Hell, ot one muſt
eottic from the Dead to tel them News out 6f
the ofher World, or they v1} net be content-
et. Now, God will riot indulge this Hamour
of theirs, af they afe teſolved ts veriiture him z
hat is, they will be dattihed; tather thin fore-

© It,

elides, There are others take # great deal of
Pains to dif-believe + They will ofe- all the Arts
of S6phiſtfy, all the Tricks and Evaſions of Wit,
intrench and fortifie themſelves ti their Athei-
tie Concelts4 it a Word, they will cheat their
own Reaſofi; oat-face thtft own Conference; arid
bring upori theinfetves a Nupid laſeffibiliry of
M! that is g66d and vertuous ; and fo, in con-
cftori, they is qbfetly, and $0 Metirly irito the
Bottorbleſs Pit.

' To all this you muſt eorifider, tat it is very
probable that tharry of theſs Men nesy be very
far from dyitg chearfully; thosgh we are fiot &-
bets obRyve their Agories 2tid Totriients ; for
it tay very well be, that when hey one begin
to conſiderey lit © deſperms Condifion they afc
in, the very Thovghts 6f thaf; togaler with
theit bodily Diſeaſe i Corjandtion, proſently

overwhelms their Spirits; #5d makes their Paſ-
Fife otit of the World more comperdions, but
ever the more cartifortable.

But

Part Il, Conference. 207

But after all, you ſhall find ſome df the afore-
aid Pefſotis, wheft they come to die, ſadly be=
wail their Folly and Careleſneſs of this kind : Bur
where-ever did you hear of an holy and vertuous
Man, that ever repented of his Choice or Pains
it Religioh, of Gare of his Soul, afid Sollicitude
in Preparation for this Occaſion ? ?Tis poſſible,
indeed, ſuch a Man thay expreſs ts Tran
becauſe his Budy is like other Men's, and the
Strength of his Diſeaſe may infeeble his Spirits,
and cloud his Reaſon, and fo interrupt the Ex-
erciſe of his Faith and Hope. And on the other
fide, the prophane and irreligious Man, though
perhaps (a3 you ſuppoſe ) he cannot, or will
not diſſemble at the Approach of Death, yet
he may be ſartiſh and inſenſible ; and then what-
ſever Differeſte of State they are entring op-
oh, there fnay be no diſcernible Differetce in
their Departare hence. And ſs you ſee, your
Queſtion will not ſerve to the Purpoſe you pro-
pounded it for.

Phil, Cote, Biophilus, teave theſe Sceptica
Artifices, theſe captions Queſtions ; do not ſeek
out Ways to Muzzle your own Conſcience, or
t!mpolſe upon your Reaſon + A Judgment there
will be, and It & «ll the Wiſdom in the Workd
t6 be prepared for #. It is if your Power, by
the Grace vf Gud,to order Mat-
ters fo, that we ſhall rather hope The wonderful
and wiſh for it, than fear-it; Comfort and =
And what vaſt Odds is there be- [7,55 KA: '2-
tweeh then two? You are fen- 'Day of Fedgment.
Gble that it 1s only a Judgment
following Death, that makes Death terrible ; at
leaſt, to bur Minds and Underſtanding. Indeed,
it is poſſible our Bodies may be diſturbed . the

Allaulrs

208 A Winter-Evening Part IE.

Aflaults of it 5 but mere Death can never ſhake
our Minds, or diſcompoſe one Thovght, if we
are ſatisfhed that all will be well after it. And
what an happy and deſirable Condition were it
to be out of the Reach of that King of Terrors,
to fee Light through that dark Vault of the
Grave, to out-live all a Man's Fears, and to live
to his Hopes? What a ſtrange Alteration will
that one Thing make in a Man's Projeftions and
Deligns, in his Countenance, and in his Spirit,
and-in the whole Management of himſelf ! For,
Who can be zfraid of any other Accident, that
hath no Cauſe to fear Death ? Who will be con-
cerned about Riches, or be much diſcompoſed
whether his Temporal Afffairs ſucceed well or
ill, that is provided for Eternity ? Who will
ſtoop ſo low, as to lay any Streſs upon Fame
and Reputation, that hath approved himſelf to
God 3nd his own Conſcience, and can ſtand the
Shock of the great Trial of the Day of Judg-
ment ? He that is in a Condition: not to fear
Death, will have no Reaſon to fear Men, or
Devils, or Spirits, or Solitude, or Darkneſs ;
but may be as bold as a Lion; and cannot pro-
bably be tempted, either to expreſs a mean Pa(-
fion, or to do a baſe Aftion:: To be ſure, he
will crouch to no Body, flatter and humour no
Body ; for no Body can hurt him : And fo his
Life is eaſe, as well as comfortable, foraſmuch
as he hath no Body to pleaſe bur God and his
own Conſcience.

But, as I was ſaying, this is to be prepared
for. Salvation is not a Matter of Courſe, nor
the Judgment a mere piece of State and Forma-
lity ; but infinitely ſacred and ſolemn. The Judge

is wiſe, and holy, and juſt ; the Trial ſtric: and
ſevere,

Part II. Conference. 209
ſevere, the Doom irreverſible, the Miſery into-
lerable if a Man miſcarry ; as well as the Feli-
city nnſpeakable, if he ſtand right at that Tri-
bunal: And to all this, the critical Time'draws
on a-pace 3 we feel our ſelves daily dying, there-
fore it concerns us to do' what is to be done out
of hand.

Bioph. I am convinced that it is the wiſeſt
Courſe to provide for the Buſineſs you ſpeak of,
if it could be done without too much Tropble.

Phil. Ah, Biophilis ! Can any Care be too great
in ſuch a Concern? Can any Thing ſeem trouble-
ſome, that may at once ſecure ns from all other :
Troubles ? But the Trouble is not great neither ;
it 1s but being ſincerely and heartily religions,
and all is done.

Bioph. That is ſoon ſaid, I confeſs ; but not
ſo ſoon done. Beſides, I am never the wiſer
for ſuch a general Advice z for there are ſo ma-
ny Religions in the World, that it is hard to
know which to truſt to. Some ſublime Reli-
gion to ſuch an heighth of Spirituality, (as they
__ it?) that a Man cannot tell what to make of

: And again, Some make no more of it, than
black Morality. Some dreſs it up fo fine and
gawdily, with ſo many Trap-
pings and Ornaments, that It is
hard' to find what the naked [= 0 2nd, Lo
Truth of the Thing is : And kei
others render it ſo plain and
conrſe, that a Man is tempted to defpiſe it.
Some repreſent it ſo thin and ſubtile, that a
Man's Reaſon can take no hold of it : And others
propound it ſo groſly and abſurdly, that a'Man
had need have a good Stomach to it, or he could
not digeſt it. Some make it a very eaſie Thing,

P a Trick

The di fſerent Re-

Gio A Winter-Eweving PartIl.

a Trick of Wit, a mere Nation, but the becom-
ing of a Party, or a bare Belieying ; nay, a pe:
culjar Garþ, an Hair-Shirt, or a Friar's Birdie:
doth the Buligeſs; With others it is a Matter af
infinite Difhcylty ; and hath ſa many nice ang
{rj Oblervaziqns belonging to it, that they
are able to diſcourage any Pretence to it. In
z Ward, it ſeems to.me ta be what the Painter
pleaſes, .far.as-much as I ſee ſome deſcribe it opt
of the Pleaſantneſs of their own Sanguine Fancy,
and others,put of the black Humour of their Hy-
pochandruack Paſſions. So that, upon the whole
Matter, I, think | had as good maintain my own

ker, .znd with-bold my Aſſent, till men
are better agreed amangt. themſelves ypon the
Point.

Sekaſh. God farbid,. Biophizs 5 for that you
canngt da, unleſs you will adyenture to be dam-
reg.z, as. certainly you muſt, if you be fapnd to
be qf. Reljgion.

Bioph, Why, have you leſs Charity far Men
of my. Femper, than for all che World beſides ?
Muſt, a Sceptiſt be certainly damned, if there be
a Judgment ? |

Sebaſt. Far be it from nje to be uncharitable
towards any Men, if I could help them. Bur 1
muſt tell you, I have leſs Hope for that Man that
hath no Faith at all, than for him that hath 3
bad ong: And it mult be a yery bad Religion ins
deed, that is not better than none. For thopgh,
by reaſon of the Variety of Perſualions, ( which
you take notice of) a Man may be fatally ſo mi{-
led, as to periſh in a blind Deyotion ; yet cer-
tainly, he that is ſa fantaſtically wiſe, as fo. bg
of nq Religion at all, cannot be ſaved. But
what need is there of cither of theſe ? There

are

*.
* OJ

A.

Part I. onference. 211

are 2 great: many falſe Religions, it is acknow-
ledged ; but there is a Truth too, and that not fo
hard to difcern as you repreſent it, if a Man fin-
cerely apply himſelf to the Search of it. |

Bioph. Now you have nick'd the Buſineſs, you
think ; as if every Country had not the true Re-
lgion, or every Mars own Perſuaſion were not
the Truth ; at leaſt, if they be allowed to be
their own Judges.

Sebaſt. Good Biophilus, do not jeſt in theſe
Matters. I know you are a witty Man ; but do
nat turn the Edge of it againſt your own Soul.
Come, Pll tell you a Religion that all the World
ſhall agree in; and, my Soul for yours, you ſhall
be ſafe, if you will comply with it. Do not
ſtare: It is no more but this;

Live ſoberly, righteouſly and god- A ſure Religion.
ly in this preſent World, Or, if |
you will have it in other Words ; Reſolve with
your ſelf, not to do that Thing ( whatever
come of it.) that you cannot anſwer to God and
your own Conſcience; and do every Thing
within your power, that may approve and re-
commend you to both ; and thenceforward fear
not a Day of Judgment.

Bioph. Now you ſpeak to the purpoſe, in-
deed; that; I muſt needs ſay, is good Counſel,
and ſuch as 1 chink all the World is agreed in ;
therefore I thank you for it, and I will try to
follow it;

Phil. God proſper your Reſolution, Biophilus.
And now, Sebeſttan, that we are happily come
to this Point, | pray give me leave: to put Bio-
philus Queſtion a little more home to you. I
thank God, I am ſenlible of the Great Day ap-
proaching, and make ſome Conſcience of being

P 3 provided

212 A W inter-Ewening Part IT.

provided for it; but becauſe I would not, for
all the World, be-miſtaken in my Meaſure, in a
Buſineſs of that Moment, I crave the Aſſiſtance
of your Judgment, how far that Care extends ;
and particularly, what it compriſes. The Rea-
ſon of my Sollicitude herein ( beſides the Conſe-
quence of the Thing it ſelf) is, becauſe I have.

_ heard it delivered as a ſtanding

Scyupulous and Rule by ſome Men, That the
Sano mo only ſure Preparation is, that a
g. —_ Man live every Day as if it were
ment reproved, the laſt he had to live. Which

Dottrine hath often raiſed Scru-
ples in my Mind, and Fſuſpe&t it may have had
the like Effect upon others; and, to tell you my
Thoughts plainly, I look upon it as unpractica-
ble, and inconſiſtent with the common Affeairs of
Life: For, moſt certainly, on that Day which I
thought would be the laſt I ſhould live, I would
not fzil to diſmiſs all other Buſineſs whatſoever ;
I would ſcarce eat, or drink, or ſleep, but whole-
ly apply my ſelf to Ats of Devotion. Now, if
that Rule be true, Religion is a more anxious
Thing than I was aware: And if it be not true,
I pray make me underſtand what is the Truth in
this Matter.

Sebaſt. I do not know why you ſhould lay
much Streſs upon my Judgment in ſuch a Cafe :
But if you will have my Opinion, 'it is plainly
this, That the Rule you ſpeak of is far more
devout, than judicious ; for, as you well ob-
ſerve, ſince God Almighty hath cloathed our
Souls with Bodies, and placed us. in a World of
Buſineſs, it cannot be that he ſhould expect we
ſhould, in the whole Courſe of our Lives, ſo fin-
gly and folely apply our ſelves to the Affairs of

: another

Part IT, Conference, 213

another World, as we ſhould think fit to do juſt
when we are going off the Stage, and ſolemnly
preparing our ſelves for an immediate Appea-
rance at God's Judgment-ſeat. If therefore
thoſe Men ( you ſpeak of ) had preſcribed, that
we ſhould every Day think of the Day of Judg-
ment, as not knowing how ſoon it may be upon
us ; or that we ſhould take care every Day to ad-
vance in our Provilion for it, they had delivered -
a great, and a neceſſary Truth : But when they
ſpeak as if they meant, that we mult do nothing
any Day, but what we would do, if we were
ſure it were our laſt Day, they thwart the very
Order of Divine Providence in the Condition of
Men, and the Conſtitution of the World ; they
condemn the PraQtice, and call in queſtion the
State of the beſt of Men; they lay a Snare for
the Conſcience of the Weak and Timorous z
and, ina Word, they obtrude an imprafticable
Notion, for the moſt concerning and neceſlary
Truth.

But you are not to wonder, or bz troubled at
it. For, though there is generally more Defect
of Devotion, than of Knowledge in the World,
yet there are ſome particular Men, wherein the
former exceeds the latter ; and ſuch Men pleaſe
themſelves in a pretty Saying, without being able
to judge of the Prudence of it; and whilſt they
go about to awaken ſome ſecure and careleſs Per-
{ons to a ſerious Senſe of their Eternal Concern,
are not aware that they afford Matter of Ever-
laſting Scruple and Offence to thoſe that are trus.
ly tender and conſciencious. 2

It were eaſie to give you ſundry Inſtances of
this ſaper-fine, high-ſtrained Divinity ; but there
is one I will mencion, for its Affinity with that.

P 3 before

214 A Winter-Evening Part II.

before us; viz. You ſhall find it dogmatically
delivered by ſome ſeeming great Caſuiſts, That
in certain and indiſputable Things, it is a Man's
Duty to do that which is beſt of the kind ; and
in uncertain and controverted Caſes, to take the
ſurer Side. Now if theſe Things were laid down
as prudential Advices only, to diret a Man
which Way to incline himſelf, they were very
uſeful ; but to make them expreſs Meaſures of
Duty, is, to make more Laws than God hath
made, and condemn more Things for Sin than
he condemns ; and conſequently, cannot chuſe
but imbroil the Conſciences of Men, For, ſup-
poſe Prayer be better than Secular Buſineſs, then
upon this Principle, I muſt turn Eachice, and
ſpend all my Time in Devotion. Suppoſe there
be fewer Temptations in a Monaſtick Life, than
m common Converſation, then every one that is
careful of his Soul, muſt retire into a Cloiſter.
If there be Difficulties attending Magiſtracy and
publick Employment, then I muſt fold up my
Hands, and do nothing, but go into my Cell,
and pray God to amend the World, thongh [
be called to the other. If Bodily Exerciſes and
Games have ſome Snares 1n them, I muſt allow
my ſclf no Recreations. Nay, 1 ſhall be put end-
keſly and anxiouſly to diſpute, whether it be bet-
ter to give a poor Man Two Pence, or a Shil-
ling, or Five Shillings, &c. Whether [ ſhall pray
three Times a Day, or ſeven Times a Day ; whe-
ther an Hour, or two Hours. And indeed, eve-
ry Thing I go about will affard inextricable Dif-
ficulties upon theſe Principles.

* But that by the Way only : As for the Bufineſs
in hand, tronble your ſelf no farther than to
live every Day well, and be ſure todo nothing
: | . you

Part IT. Conference. 218

you cannot anſwer ; be always petting ground,
and growing, better and better ; as near as you
can, do m_ Day ſomething that tiay torn to
Account another Day ; and then comfortably a-
wait God's Time.

Phil. 1 thank you heartily, both for your di-
ret Anſwer, and your Digreſſion: And I pray
pardon me, if 1 come a little cloſer to you yer.
I know you live nnder a comfortable Proſpect of
the Day of Judgment; and I am confident you
neither would nor could enjoy that even Tran-
quility, if you were hot upon ſure Grounds.
Now my Requeſt is, that you will be ſo free with
me, as to make me acquainted with your whole
Management of your ſelf : For, though I have
Rule to walk by, yet, for fear I ſhould miſ-apply
it, and either through Snperſtition and Scrnþu-
lofty over-po it, or by the Careleſneſs of my
own Heatt fall ſhort of it, I ſhould be very glad
to have an Example to interpret it to me.

Sebaſt. I clearly perceive you either love me
too much, or know me not ſo well as I thought
you did, in that you think of making me your
Example. Alas! Phil. little do you thifik how
many Follies and Infirmities I labour under ; ati
as little, what Qualms and DejeCtions of Spirit I
ſometimes feel within my ſelf.

Phil. I confeſs, I do not know you fo well, but
that I deſire to know more of you : And thovgh
It be a great Thing I ask of you, that you ſhould
abſolutely unboſom your ſelf to me; yet yori
that have done me fo much good already, I hope
will not deny me this Advantage of yout Con-
verfation.

" Sebaft, Ah! dear Phil. you may command me
atiy Thing : But, I cell you, my Life hath tov

EY P 4 many

216 AWinter-Evening Part II.

many Blots in it for you to make a Copy of. In
truth, ſuch a Precedent will indanger to-make
you too remiſs.

Phil; Now you diſcourage me more than ever,
and make me ſuſpe& that it is an harder Thing
to be ſaved than I imagined, fince you find ſuch
Difhculty in it.

Sehaſt. Good Phil. excuſe me from ſaying any
Thing of my ſelf; but (if it were not too te-

Elabes' Hi dious for this _ 1 would
* Hifi give you the Hiſtory of an hol
7) of _ Life, nk of mine, which [ had
eparations
for Fudgment, from his own Mouth, and that,
I aſſure my ſelf, will be of more
uſe to you, than what you ſcem ſo pallionately
to deſire.

Phil. Of whom do you mean ?

Sebaſt. Of my dear Friend Eulabes, now with
God ; a Perſon of as great SanCtity of Life, and
Comfortableneſs of Spirit, as Earth can eaſily
admit of.

Phil. 1 have heard much of the Fame of his
Picty, but I neyer had the Happineſs to know
him. For God's ſake, let us have his Story, ſince
you will not gratifie me in my firſt Requelt.

Sebaſt. 1 remember the Time well, when I
made much the ſame Requeſt to him, which you
have now done to me: And he, after he had for
a good while modeſtly declined giving me Satil-
faction therein, ( by ſuch Excuſes as it is not ne-
ceſſary 1 ſhould now repeat, and I had replied to
them as well as I could ) at length yielding to my
Importunity, he began thus;

** Dear Friend, ( quoth be ) though from the
* firft Date of our Acquaintance, our Converſa-

* tion bath beep ſo intimate, and my Breaſt hath
| | © heen

Part II. Conference, + 217

** been ſo open to you, that I ſcarcely know any
* Thing by my ſelf, that you have not been pri-
*vy to; yet becauſe you are pleaſed to enter-
*© tain the Curioſity to enquire farther after me,
* I will not ſtick to tell you as well what hap-
©* pened to me before the Commencement of our
* Friendſhip, as alſo ſuch Things as ( in regard
© they palled only betwixt God and my own
** Soul) may be unknown to you, though they
* were tranſacted fince.
© Know then, ( /aid he ) that about ſuch time
** as I had out-grown the mere Follies and Infir-
© mities of my Youth, and began, together with
* the Advance of my bodily Strength and Vigour,
*© to make alſo ſome Eſſays of Underſtanding and
* Diſcretion, I quickly found that by the Spring-
* Tide of my Blood, and the great Increaſe of
* bodily Spirits, ſeveral very impetuous Paſſions
& and Inclinations boiled up in me, notwithſtan-
* ding thoſe ſmall Efforts which my Reaſon ( as
** yet ) could make to the contrary.
* This [ then thought ( and do ſtill) to be a
* Caſe common to other Men with my ſelf; and
* ſince I have conſidered of it, I am apt to think
© that our wiſe Creator ſo ordered the Matter,
© that theſe two Combatants, Senſe and Reaſon,
* ſhould grow up, and enter the Liſts together ;
* to the Intent, that as Reaſon ſhould not be
© without its Antagoniſt, to hold it ip play ; ſo
** on the other ſide, thoſe bodily Powers ſhould
** not be left without a Guide, to conduCt, con-
© troll and manage them.
* However, hereupon bodily Inclinations
* growing daily ſtronger and ſtronger, and my
** Reaſon and Conſcience not being yet foiled or
* corrupted, there aroſe a very ſtrong Conflict
in

218 AWimer-Evening PartIl.

*-in rhe between thern, and that as yet of ve-
* xy donbtful Iſſe ; foraſmbch as both being
© Parrs of my ſelf, I could not eaſily reſolve
<« which Side to incline to.

* [n the mean Time, ( as God would have it )
« calling to mind the Solerinity of my Baptiſm
& 7 remembred that then, when I was dedicated
% to Chriſt, and entred as a Candidate of Eter-
« nal Life, I had renounced the Fleſh, with the
* Affections and Luſts. Hereupon therefore 1
«© reſolved to withſtand them, if I could ; and
© to this End, begged the Aſſiſtance of God's
* Grace; and ( by the Advice of my Parents,
© 4nd thoſe good Perſons, who, having been
&« Sureties for me; had a Defire to diſcharge
& their Conſciences of that Truſt which lay upon
& them ) lapplied my ſelf to the Biſhop for Con-
A frmation : Whereby having obtained not only
& the Bleſſing of my Spiritual Father, but made
4 Chriftian Religion now my own Act and Choice;
& and beſides, had put ſuch a publick Obligation
« apo my ſelf, as would render it very ſhameful
< for me to go back, or retreat, I, from that
« Time forward, was under a more awful Senſe
« of God and Religion, and felt frequent Mo-

© tions of the Holy Spitit within me.

Here, I remember, 1 a little interrupted him,
applanding his ſingular Felicity, in being ſo early
engaged in the Way of Heaven; by which Means,
that Courſe was now grown habitual to him,
and his Accounts much eafier at the Day of Judg-
ment.

| But he proceeded, ſaying, * It is true, indeed,
* i was God” great Goodneſs to awaken me to-
= 2 Senſe of my Duty thus carly, as I have told

& you : But then, what by the Allurements of
* Pleaſures,

Part II. Conference. 219

& Pleaſures, which have always too poinant a
« Reliſh with younger Years ; what by Engage-
&« ment in Buſineſs, which grew upon me after-
* wards; and what through the Contagion of
* Example, which ſurrounds a Man with ro0
&« common Inſtances of Careleſne{s in theſe
** weighty Matters ; I was drawn off from any
&« cloſe Attendance upon Religion, until it plea»
* ſed God, in his wiſe Methods of Grace, to lay
« his Hand upon me in a dangerous Fit of Sick-
« neſs: And this, partly, as it ſtained all the
* Beauty of the World, which heretofore allu-
* red me z partly alſo, as it mortified and en-
© feebled thoſe bodily Powers which before were
* too potent in me; but principally, as it gave
* me Leiſure and Inclination to re-collect my
«* ſelf; I thereupon ( ſeeing nothing but Death
&© before me ) fell into a great Concern for ago-
& ther Life, and ſo by degrees came to a ſolemn
« Reſolution of making Religion my chief Buſi-
© neſs, and took all the Care poſhble, that ſo |
* might be prepared for the great Day of Trial.
; © Now, becauſe this is = proce (1
© perceive) you enquire after, I will acquaint
bc = with the Method I purſned ; and, to deal
* faithfully with you, (as I hope 1 did with my
* own Soul) the Streſs of my Preparations lay
* in theſe Three Things.
. « Firſt, Becauſe _ ſure that an holy Life
* muſt needs be the beſt Paſs-port for the other
«© World, therefore I conſidered how [ might
* keep my ſelf clofeſt to my Duty, and walk in
&* all the Commandments of God as blameleſs as
« it was poſlible. |

* mw Becauſe I knew that I had failed
* heretofore, and | feared | ſhould again, in _
| *© vera

226 AW, inter-Evening Part II.

* yeral Things, fall ſhort of my Duty ; therefore
© I bethought my ſelf how I might do ſomething
* extraordinary, if not to make up thoſe De-
< fects, yet to ſhew, at leaſt, the Simcerity of my
©® Love to God and Religion, and the Value [
« had for the World to come.

* Thirdly, and principally, In Conſideration
« of the Purity and Juſtice of God, and the
*Strictneſs of his Laws, I deſired and endea-
© youred to intereſt my ſelf in the Satisfattion
« and Intercefſion of my Saviour. |

* For the Firſt of theſe, namely, the Appro-
< ving my ſelf to God in the Integrity of an ho-
< by Life, I conſidered, that Eternal Life not be-
&* ing a Thing of Courſe, or naturally due to Men,
© but the ſingular Gift of God, eur Hopes of it,
< and Title to it, muſt depend upon the Perfor-
© mance of ſuch Conditions as he ſhould think
<* fit to impoſe ; and foraſmuch as no Man can
* know God's Mind, and what he will be plea-
« fed with, unleſs he himſelf reveal it. There-
* fore, in the firſt place, 1 did not content my
« felf with Humane Writings, and Moral Diſ-
* courſes, nor much leſs to conform my ſelf to
* the Meaſnres and Cuſtoms of the World ; but
** ſer my ſelf daily and diligently to ſtudy the
&* holy Scriptures, and took the Meaſures of my
* Duty, and the Rule of my Life thence. And
* to this I joined daily and earneſt Prayer, that
it wonld pleaſe Divine Goodneſs, not only to
© make me underſtand his Will, but guide and
* enable me to perform it ; that he would pre-
© ſerve me from Prejudices, from Inadvertency,
* from fooliſh Opinions, and raſh Aftions. And
© this I performed not cuſtomarily and formal-
6 ly,*as if I complemented God Almighty ; cw

G >. wit

$- Re am Tl Om aA ca.C.oac. ac

Part IT. Conference. 221

* with my utmoſt Vigour, and Intention of Spi-
&« rit; and never thought I had acquitted my
« ſelf therein, till I found my Heart warmed
<& with its own Motion:

&* More particularly, becauſe I found that hard
© Study, and Sicklineſs of Body, had made me
« ſomewhat ſubject to the Diſorders of the Ira-
&« ſcible, ( as heretofore Health and Plenty had
&« inclined me to the Concupiſcible ; ) therefore
« | vehemently implored the Divine Grace for
© my Relief; and have been frequently conſtrain-
* ed to allay a Storm or Paſlion with a Showre
© of Tears.

« Beſides this, I took ſpecial Care to keep out
« of vicious and licentious Company, which 1
* was confident, if it did not taint me with ſome
©* jill Example, would be ſure to cool my Heat,
© and abate my Edge to Religion: And contra-
© riwiſe, I contrived as much as poſlible I could,
© to keep ſuch Converſation as was likely to pro-
* voke and inflame me in the Courſe I had pro-
* pounded to my ſelf.

* And leſt all this ſhould not be ſufficient to
* ſecure me of my Intentions, every Evening 1
*-eretted a petty Tribunal within my ſelf, and
* called my ſelf to Account for the Day paſt, if
< I had flipped any Opportunity of doing or re-
« ceiving Good; if any raſh Word or Aion
©* had eſcaped me; if any earthly or ſenſual Af-
* feftion had been ſtirring in me; if I had been
* guilty of any Inſtances of Injuſtice, that here-
* after might riſe up in Judgment againſt me, 1
© repented, and made my Peace with God and
* Man, at far as it was poſſible, before I ſlept.
* Iexamined my ſelf alſo what Progreſs I had
© made that Day towards Heaven ; whether,

_ now

222? A IWinter-Ewexing Part IT,

©* now had fpent a Day of my Life, I was a
& Days Journey anward of my Way ; and what
* F had ta ſhew for the of that Day. T
_* always took, as I ſaid, the Evening for this
* Bufinefs, both in regard of the Privacy and
6 Quiet of'that Seaſon, and alſo. becauſe I foun@
© that then tho Salitude and Darkneſs. of the
* Nights.were caſfic, and the Sleep comfortable,
E when 1 had firſt cleared all Scores: And be-
% ſides, I was cautious left: the Interpoſition of
& Sleep ſhould have made me forget the Paſlages
S. of tho formen Day, if I had deferred the Ac-
* count of them till the next.

* Beſides alt this, I found it. neceffary ( and
E accordingly practiſed) to ſet one Day aſide in
« every Month, and more ſolemnly and wholly
* dedicated it to this Buſineſs, to romage my
% own Heatt, to.compare my ſelf with my ſelf,
* and to obſerve how much I advanced in my
G& great Deſign. |

2. © The Second Part of my Care ( as 1 told
* you ) was, to efiace thoſe Erroursof my Life,
* which.had either wittingly or unwillingly eſca-
E ped me. Now, to. this purpoſe, I was very
% defirous to do. ſome exemplary good Things,
* that b might lift up the Head, and raiſe the
& Spirit of Piety in the World; and the rather,
* to the Intent, that if I had done any Kurt by
&« j1l Example formerly, I might, when I coutd
& not reveke the ACt, yet prevent the Contagion
«of it. And beſides, I was. watchful of, and
« atadly embraced all Opportunities, of demon-
& ftrating- the Sincerity af my. Love to. God,
* though it was by a coſtly or difficult Service;
G fop l made no.doubt, but the more there was

% of Self-denial in a vestuous Attion, the greater
; © was

Part IL Conference. 223

<« was the Evidence of Grace and Divine Love
& in performing it. Upon this Account, I could
« well have hesn content it would have pleaſed
« God to have given me a juſt Occaſion of ſome
&« ſmart, but tolerable Sufferings for him. - And
« with this Proſpect, I have put my ſelf upon
* ſome Meaſures of Charity that were to the
& yery utmoſt of my Ability, if not beyond it:
& [| have interpoſed my ſelf voluntarily for the
* Reſcue of ſome deſolate and oppreſſed Perſon
« from 2 potent Adverſary, and thereby deri-
« ved the Trouble upan my ſelf which I protet»
« ed that Perſon from. I have put my (elf for»
« ward to reclaim ſome peeviſh, deluded Sea»
« ry, or ſome vicious Perſon; from whom I have
* had yery ingrateful Treatment for my Gqod
*K Will : That by all, or ſome of theſe, I might
© ſhew that I loved God as well as my ſelf. Not
« that I had any proud Conceit or Opinion of
« Supererrogation in any Thing I could do or
«* ſatter : So far from it, that I am ſenſible, that
« when I have done all I can, I muſt acknow-
* ledge my ſelf an unproficable Servant, and
* that I have not done ſo much as was my Duty
® to do. Notwithſtanding, as a Subject that
* hath been in Rebellion againſt his Prince, or
* ſome Way or other diſ{-obliged him, will be
* glad tq be employed in the moſt difficult, Ser»
«* yices, that be may ſhew his Loyalry, and re»
© cover his Favqur : Sol, who was ſenſible that
© in many Things I had offended the Divine
* Majeſty, could not chuſe byt prize an Occa-
© ſion of doing ſomething more than Matter of
* ſtrict Duty, that I might ſhew that, neverthe-
* leſs, I loyed him. And, indeed, it ſeems to
©* me, that thoſe who pretend ſo much Modefty
*.

224
« and. Humility, as to be ſcrupulous of over.
&* doing in this manner, are only, in reality, a-
© fraid of loving him too much ; which, I am
& ſare, is impoſſible. And therefore I find, that
© {ach Free-will Offerings give a Man's Heart
« great ' Aſſurance, and enable a Man to look
<©<with the more comfortable Ereftion of Mind
© towards God and the Day of Judgment. Sol
& obſerved Nehemiah, Chop. 13. Verſ. 14; When
© he” had ſhewed himſelf publick-ſpirited, and
« generouſly, and. with conſiderable Difficulty
«2nd Hazard to himſelf, had aſſerted the In-
< tereſt of the oppreſſed Jews, and their Reli-
« pion, he then, with an holy Confidence, ad-
« dreſſes himſelf to God, in theſe Words ; Re-
« member me, O Lord, for this ; and wipe not out
* the good Deeds which I have done, &c. This, 1
<« take it, is Laying up in ſtore a good Foundation,
« apainſt the Time to come This is Making Friends
« of the Mammon of Unrighteouſneſs, thar when we
« fait, they may receive us into Everlaſting Habita-
© ions. Such Actions, I ſay, either of Piety or
& Charity aforeſaid, are, as it were, the Draw-
&« ing a Bill upon God Almighty, to be paid in
< the other World ; and making a wiſe and fru-
& 921 Purchace of a Reverſion in Heaven.

« Wherefore ( as I told you ) I ſtudied all Op-
& portunities, and conſulted the utmoſt of my
&« Ability, to do ſome remarkable good Things,
«< that might be beneficial to the World, or to
« Religion, when I was dead and gone; and
<« endeavoured to ſow ſuch Seed, as whoſe Fruit
& ſhonld, by the Grace of God, be freſh and laſt-
<« ing to the very Day of judgment.
3. *© But, when all was done, I laid the great-

< eſt Streſs of all upon the Third and laſt Part of
| © my

A Winter- Evening Part [[.

Part II. Conference. 225

« my Preparation ; and that was, in intereſſing
« my ſelf in the Satisfaftion and Interceſſion of
© my Saviour. For, beſides the many and great
&« Failings I was ſenſible of, I conſidered alſo, the
« Purity of the Divine Nature was ſuch, that he
« found Folly in his Angels, and deteſted Sin where-
© eyer he found it; that his Law was ſtrit and
© perfect; that it was impoſſible any Thing
&« ſhould be acceptable to ſuch a Majeſty, or
© make Amends for the Breach of ſuch a Law,
& but that which was perfeCt too ; that nothing
« could make Atonement for Sin, but a Lamb
« without Spot ; that nothing could ſucceſsfully
& jntercede for us, but the Only Son of God.
« Therefore [I ſet an infinite Value upon the Diſ-
&« covery of the Light and Grace of the Goſpel,
« | with all Heartineſs and Thankfulneſs embra-
&* ced the Terms of the New Covenant, I endea-
&« youred to aftett my ſelf with the higheſt Senſe
« of Love and Gratitude towards my Lord Jeſus
« Chriſt, I pleaded his Sacrifice in my Prayers,
« I fed my Faith with his Blood, I raiſed my
© Hopes by having ſo powerful an Advocate with
« the Father, I comforted my ſelf againſt the
« Accuſations of the Devil and my own Con-
&« ſcience, and all my black and melancholy
* Thoughts, by the Conſideration, that he was
« 2ppointed Judge of the World that was in Hu-
«© mane Natore, who had been ſenſible of our
©* Infirmities, had Experience of our Tempta-
©* tions, and had ſo much Good Will to us as to
* die for us. I acknowledged and adored his
« Divinity, I confeſſed him before Men, I glo-
© ried in his Croſs and Sufferings, I frequently
©* obſerved the Memorial of his Death and Paſ-
* ſion in the Sacrament, I joined my ſelf to his

Q * Church,

226 A Winter-Evening Part Il.

* Church, I honoured his Miniſters, I reveren-
© ced all his Inſtitutions; and, in a Word, as
&* the higheſt and trueſt Honour I could do to
&* him, I endeavoured to be like him, by Imita-
& tion of his Sincerity, Purity, Meekneſs, and
** Goodneſs; in Confidence thar, upon theſe
& Terms he would own me when he comes again
©* in his glorious Majeſty.
* This ( /#id be ) hath been the Courſe and
& Care of my Life, from ſuch time as I became,
& in earneſt, ſenſible of the Concern of another
* World, and this is the Summ of my conſtant
<* Preparations for the Day of Judgment; and
«© in this Poſture I endeavour always to be found
« whenſoever God calls me. I confeſs, 1 ſhould
© be right glad (if ir pleaſed God to give me
* Opportunity ) to make ſame more ſpecial and
** particular Preparations againſt the Approaches
* of Death, if I could be awareof it; and to trim
* and ſnuff my Lamp againſt the Bridegroom
* comes : But for that, God*s Will be done ;
* However, by his Grace, 1 hope I ſhall not be
& utterly ſurprized nor diſmayed ; having made
© this habitual Proviſion for it. '* Thus far he.
Phil. Your Friend Eulabes appears to have been
a molt exemplary, holy, and a
Eulabes his more wiſe Man ; and the Relation
ſpecial Pr wt alt- which you have given us, as
or 5. = {x from his own Mouth, exceed-
proaches of it, Ingly fits the CharaQter of ſuch a
: Perſon ; for there is both a live-
ly Spirit of Pliety breathing in it, and withall,
ſuch a becoming and proportionable Modeſty, as
ſufficiently aſſures the real Truth of the whole
Narrative, foraſmuch as I cannot ſuſpeCft you
would impoſe upon us herein ; nor can I believe
£1. 114

Part Il. Conference. 227

iteaſie (if pofſible) for an evil Man to draw a
Scene of Vertue, with ſo many Arguments of
Probability. For my own part, I have been all
along ſo affefted with ir, that nothing hath grie-
ved me ſo much, as that you ſeemed to draw to-
wards an End of your Story, as well as the good
Man to the End of his Life. And now I have a
Thouſand Queſtions, which I would gladly put
to you farther about him, but that I am afraid
of being too troubleſome to you; eſpecially,
ſince it grows late. However, I pray, pardon
me, whilſt I interrogate you a little about the
laſt ACt of ſo brave a Perſon. I remember, you
ſaid, he intended, if God gave him Opportuni-
ty, to make ſome more particular and ſpecial
Preparations at the Approaches of Death : Now
I have a great Curioſity to enquire, whether it
pleaſed God to afford him ſuch Opportunities as
he wiſhed, and what Uſe he made of them? Gra»
tihe me in this, and I will detain you no longer
at this Time.

Sebaſt, Why, therein, dear Phy. I will ſatisfie
ou as well as lam able. You muſt know there-
ore, that Ealabes having, through the Courſe of

his whole Life, maintained a ſtrict Temperance,
and now well advanced in Years, it happened to
him, ( as it is uſual in ſach Caſes) by the good
Providence of God, to have a gradual and lei-
ſurely Diſſolution ; he was neither racked to
Death by the intolerable Pains of the Gout or
Stone, nor hurried out of the World in the Fie-
ry Chariot of a violent Fever, nor [tabbed by an
"POpIeys nor ſtupifted by a Lethargy ; bur was
mildly and gently ſummoned by a lingring Sick-
neſs, ſo that inſenſibly he felt himſelf dying. By
this Means he had both Time, Strength and Un-
Q 2 derſtanding

228 A Winter-Evening Part II.

derſtanding to ſettle every Thing according to
his Wiſhes. When therefore he ſaw the Harbin-
gers of Death draw on towards him, and that
he could nor long maintain the little Fort of Life
againſt the Confederate Force of ſo many Infir-
mities as beſieged it, he then diſpoſed himſelf for
a Surrender. |

In the firſt place, Having formerly, in better
Health, made his Will, and ſetled his Temporal
Afffairs, he now diſmiſſed all Buſineſs, forbid all
impertinent Talk, all troubleſome Viſitants, and
diſcharged his Phyſicians alſo, as finding no far-
ther Uſe' of them ; and forthwith ſent for the
Phyſician of his Soul, the Miniſter of his Pariſh ;
a plain, hearty, and ſincerely good Man. And
he being come, my Friend addreſles himſelf to
him, giving bim hearty Thanks for all the Pains
he had taken in the Courſe of his Miniſtry in that
Place, to do their Souls good. Where (ſaith
he) it hath pleaſed God ſo to order it, that you have
often come home to my Caſe, and touched the very
Diſtemper of my Heart, as if you bad been within
me ;, for which I humbly thank Almighty God, and
again and ag ain thank, you ;, and pray God reward it
in another World.

Now, Sir, (proceeded he) that great Fudge of
all the World is calling me to Account of all the A-
tions of my Life ; I have therefore ſent for you to
audite them before-hand, that ſo, by your Aſſiſtance,
I may either krow my Errours, and repair what/o-
ever 1s amiſs, whilſt yet I have a little Time left me
r0 doit in; or, if I have ſtated my Matters rightly,
may appear with the better Aſſurance at that T ribu-
nal, 1 have always found you faithful in your Do-
ttrme, and I do not aoubt but you will be impartial ins
this Application,

> At

Part II. Conference. 229

At this Point I offered to go out, and leave
them private ; which he perceiving, took me by
one Hand, and the Miniſter by the other, and
then continued his Diſcourſe. 7 will give you
( ſaid he to the Miniſter ) the Hiſtory of my Life;
at leaſt, I will not conceal from you any main Paſſage
of it, be it for me, or againſt me; that ſo you may
paſs a Judgment npon my ſpiritual State : And I de=
ſire you, my dear Friend Sebaſtian, t0 be preſent,
who have been privy to the moſt critical Moments of
it ; to the intent that you may witneſs againſt me be-
fore this Man of God, if I falſifie in any Thing.
This ſaid, he laid open the Courſe of his Life;
and, amongſt ſeveral other Things, which ei-
ther I do not now ſo well remember, or think
not fit to repeat, he delivered the Subſtance of
that, whereof I have given you a large Acconnt
before ; and then he conjured him, in the Name
of God, to deal freely and plainly with him up-
on the whole Matter.

The holy Man, (like a Jury; in a manifeſt
Caſe) without long Deliberation, quickly brought
in a Verdi of Comfort to him. Which when
Eulabes perceived, with his Eyes fixed upon him,
and a Countenance ſomewhat cheared ; Well,
ſaid he, God be thanked, if it be ſo, wes I bope it is ;
for I reſt aſſured, Almighty Goodneſs deſpiſes not the
meaneſt Sincerity, But I humbly and earneſtly be-
ſeech you, Sir, give me alſo the Abſolution of © the
Church, that I may go out of the World under the
Comfort of ſo publick and authentick a Teſtimony.
Which when the Miniſter had ſolemnly perform-
ed, he intreated him farther, to adminiſter to
him the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper ;' That
ſo ( ſaid he) ſeeing, as # were, my Saviour cruci-
fied before my Eyrs, and pouring out his Blood for

SIMmer,

230 A Winter-Evening Part II.

Sinners, 1 may the more firmly believe the Pardon of
m__ Sins, and upon the Wings of Faith and Afffes
on raiſe my ſelf towards Heaven,

This, after the Interpoſition of Prayers and
Meditation, and holy Diſcourſe, was admini-
ftred to him : But, Lord ! What an Ecſtacy of
Devotion was the good Man now in ! What To-
kens of Humility, AffecCtion, Thankfulneſs, and
Intention of Mind were then to be read in his
Countenance and Deportment ! Moſt certainly,
Chriſt Jeſus was preſent really,though not carnal-
ly; and his Soul fed it ſelf moſt ſavourily upon
him. Theſe Things being done, he diſmiſſed
the Miniſter for that Time, not without real Ex-
preſlions of his Thankfulneſs to him for his Pains
and Aſſiſtance, not without a liberal Alms to be
diſpoſed at his Diſcretion amongſt the Poor ;
earneſtly intreating him to remember him con-
ſtantly in the Prayers of the Church, that there-
by he might be holpen on his Journey towards
Heaven, where he hoped ſhortly to arrive.

Some Time after this, when by {ome Repoſe
he had recovered a little Strength, his Family
was called together to his Bed-fide, with ſome
others of his Friends and Relations; all whom
he moſt earneſtly cautioned againſt Looſneſs of
Life, and Prophaneneſs of Spirit; aſſuring them,
in the Words of a dying Man, of the great Rea-
lity, and infinite Importance of Religion. He
charged them, as they would anſwer it at that
great Day which was certainly coming, that
they ſhould not ſuffer themſelves, either to be
debauched into Careleſneſs and Lukewarmneſs,
nor abuſed and cheated into Fantaſtry and Opi-
nionativeneſs in Religiong but perſiſt in the good

old Way, reverence their Miniſter, keep to their
Church,

Part II. Conference. 231

Chnrch, and make the Serving of God the great-
eſt Care and Buſineſs of their Lives. Then he
diſcourſed admirably to them of the Vanity of
the World, the Uncertainty of Life, the Com-
forts of Religion, and the Joys of Heaven, till

his Spirits began to be ſpent, and his Speech a
little to faulter. At other Times he retreated
into himſelf, and entertained Converſe with God
by Prayers, and holy Meditations ; in which,
what are the Elevations of his Faith, what the
holy Raptures of his Love, what humble Abje-
fions of himſelf at the Feet of Chriſt, what Re-
ſignations of himſelf to the Will of God, what
Pleading of the Promiſes of the Goſpel, and Re-
cambency upon the [Interceſſion of his Saviour,
we conld not be privy to, farther than as we
ſaw his Hands and Eyes earneſtly lift up to Hea-
ven ; ſometimes a Stream of Tears falling from
his Eyes, and other times, interchangeably, a
chearful Smile ſitting upon his Countenance. In
which Poſture, bodily Strength being now ex-
hauſted, he, with a gentle Sigh, reſigned up hix
Soul to God. |

Thus I have given you the laſt Paſlages of this

good Man, ( now, no doubt, in Heaven) if I
have not tired you with the Relation z though,
I confeſs, I am not very apt to ſuſpett that, both
becauſe I have done it in Compliance with your
Defire ; and beſides, I judge of other Men by my
ſelf, and becauſe Iam never weary of thinking
or ſpeaking of him, therefore imagine other
Men may be of the ſame Mind.

: Phil, Ah, Sir ! So far from being weary of
ſuch kind of Diſcourſe, that I could willingly
have forgot all other Things for it, and been
glad this Evening-Conferegce had continued till
PS 4-1 to

232 AWinter-Evening, &c. Part II,

to Morrow Morning : But I conſider, Devotion
muſt not too much intrench upon Civility ;
therefore | return you my hearty Thanks for my
good Entertainment, and take my Leave for this
Time.

Fioph. I thank you both for your good Com-
pany, and your charitable Offices towards my
SatisfaCtion 3 and | do already allure you of. this
Fruit of it, that by your Converſation I have
learnt, .that all Religion is not aQting a Part,
and playing the Hypocrite, which I was apt to
fuſpeCt heretofore; for I ſee you are fo really
\hearty, and in earneſt in it, and yet Men of
greater Sagacity than my ſelf, that I tell you
truly, 1 begin to think it becomes me, ſeriouſly
to conlider of it. Good Night to you, good

Sebaſtian.

The End of the Second Conference.

A

Winter-Evening

CONFERENCE

"BETWEEN *

N ET GHB OURS.

—

——

PAR T 1.

By F. GOODMAN, D.D.

Þ.Iciewow 2M yeonne many Kanal.
Ex Menand. in Thaide.

Evil Communications corrupt good Manners,
3 Cor. 24. 34

LOND 0 N,
Printed by F. #7. for L. Meredith, at the

Star in St. Paul's Church-yard, 1694.

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-

HE Papers before thee contain a
| Relathon of a Third Conference ,
| between the ſame Perſons who held
the two former, (whith were made publick
about two yeats finee. ) Aud this is pur -
tnt of the ſame general Deſign that was then
laid, namely, to raiſe the rate aud ſubjef of
Mens C a ng and ro bring religious
Pjetrſe a Iittle mote into faſhjou : thay
which nothing can be more gentle and mays
'ly, zor any thing either more uſefull, plea-
Jaut or graceful, whe: once Men are accu-
omen to it, and kyoiv how to manage it with
, an _ temperature of affect ion »d gravity.
The ſpecral matter of the preſent Confe-
Fexce is jointly to repreſent, as well the
"prudence and comfortableneſs , as the juſt
teaſon and neceſſity of Religion.
. . And whether that great Point be here
made out with that clear evidence which
Jach a Subjelt deſerues and requires , muſt
te left to thy judgment. |
A 2 But

To the Reader.

But if I ſhall not be thought too much
a Party to interpoſe my Opinion, I profeſs
fincerely that 1 verily think both the inte-
reſt of Piety and of comfortable living are
hereby confiderably promoted.

And as for the Perſons that ſpent their
Winter-Evening # this manner ; I cas
aſſure thee, that they are ſo well ſatisfied
in this employment of their time, that
(though probably thou wilt never hear more
of them in Print, yet) they are reſolved
0. continue this courſe privately among
themſelves ; as finding it to be both more
delightfull, and more profitable, than either
Collee-Houſe-Club or Tavern- Aſiignations.

That which I am to requeſt of thee at
preſent is, That thou wilt conſult thy Req-
ſon and Conſcience in the peruſal of theſe
Papers, and ( for the time at leaſt ) lay
aſide Drolling Wit and Phantaſtry : For 1
.am well aware, that if. thou canſt find in
thy Heart to-trifle in ſo ſerious a Concern,
"thou niayſt raiſe a Prejudice in thy ſelf and
others againſt what is here preſented : for
that temper will eafily apprehend ſeveral
little things to play upon. in this way of
writing. Sh |
* But if thou wilt uſe that Candour with
.which the former Eſſays of this kind were
entertained, thou wilt then look attentively

| at

To the Reader. .

at the main Deſign, and finding that to be
both pious and\generous, dif} poſe thy ſelf to
make ſuch allowances for C [dh th as
uſe to be made to private Converſation a-
mongſt Friends and Neighbours, conſider-
ing that in thoſe Caſes Men uſually ſpeak
with almoſt ' the ſame ſecurity that they
think. 09'S Wy

There is one thing more wbich I an, ob-
liged to Preface on the behalf of Sebaſtian ;

hat whereas in the' proving to'Biophilus,
That there is 4 God, and in-explicating the
Divine Nature , he hath made uſe of two
or three Metaphyſical Terms, thou wilt not
impute it either to his Afffettation of hard
words, or much leſs think that he takes San-
fluary in obſcure Phraſes : but rather con-
fider that it "was impoſſible to avoid them
without multiplying words, and fo drawing
the Argument out at ſo great a length, as
would have been much more inconvenient
than that which” thou complaineſt of.

1 add no more, but heartily commend this
little Book to thy acceptance, and thee to
the Grace of God, and the comforts of his
Holy Spirit.

Farewel.

A} The

—

'* The Choiatepr of _ "A in
"the ' following C a |

F Elaktian, y Lewned ond Piovus Gentle»
man, whe takes all occaſions of. en;
gaging thaſe he converſes with, in ſobrts
ety and : ſenſe of Religion.

Philander ST Gentile gnd Ingenious
Perſon, but too much. addicted to the
lightnoſſes of the Age, till roclaimed by
ky Converſation of Sebaſbiay.
; Bidphilas, 2 Sceptical Perſon who had
po ſerthed Belief of any thing; but eſpeci-
ally was averſe to the groat DoGrines of
Chriſtianigy , concerning the Immortal»
EX tha-$eul and. the Life to came ; and

refors', eonlequently was much cons
cerned, far the wo Life. Till at langth
awakened by. the diſcreet Reaſonings of
Sebaſtian, and the affectionate Diſtaurſes
of Phalander, he bagins: to deliberate of
what before he deſpiſed.

The ARGUMENT ofrhe Third
GAN FERENCE... -

Saboſtian ond Philander, #3 very gnod
Mon aud intimate Frieads, weeting t0-
gether af the Heoyſe of Bianhilus, { #n
Pur ſuance of a former Reſolution token
dermoen thew ) under. the Allegwr ical
Aiſepiſe of a Jouruey to Uranig , heyin
to talt marmly of Religion aud avother
Warld. Biophilus, whe bad never yet
ewertaiued avy ſerious Apprehenfias of
theſe watters, wonders «t their Diſ-

.. Sourſe, which he efeems tn be wo better
| than Remontich, and projeſſes bis ſuſpici-
on, that either Wine had heated them,
or Rnthufaſm hed tranſported them.
Beth which groundicſs coneeits of bis ,

. when Sebaſtian had efectaally confuted ,
be then preceeds ts make a twefold Ef-
fort xpmn Bropluſus, 4s hring bins into
the (ame fenſs of things with hineſelf

. «1d Philander, Je the bs atiachs
him where he thought he was maſt ac-
ceſſible ; and upon the account of prudence,
and the common concern of ſelf-preſerva-
tion, preſſes him to a regard of Religion,
as that without which no Man can either
live or die comfortably. And when by
this means he had in ſome meaſure diſpo-

A 4 ſed

fed him to be ſerious, he then in the ſe-
cond place ' repreſents to him the whole
Scheme of Religion, and now renders it
as rational in it ſelf, as before he had
ſhewed it to be prudent and important.
Hereupon the Sceptical Gentleman, after
abundance of ſift and evaſions, is at
laſt brought to a non-plus. And thence-
forth begins to enquire very modeſtly in-
#0 the mature of - Religion in general ,
and of the Chriſtian Religion in parti-
cular'; which when Sebaſtian had alſo in-
' ftruted him in, he promiſes to ſtudy it
diligently for the time to come. Then
Sebaſtian aud Philander leaving him
under that good reſolution, entertain one
another with very pious and uſefull Dif+
courſes, partly of the neceſſity of conſtan-
cy in Religion, and the confiderations
that will maintain it , partly of the
means of obtaining and preſerving an e-
ven temper ' of ſpiritual comfort through
the whole courſe of a chriſtian life. And
fo the Night parts them.

A Win-

A Winter-Evening

CONFERENCE

BETWEEN

NEIGHBOURS.
x PART Il.

A .
_—

Sebaſtian, Philander,
Brophilus.

Sebaſtiaw. ELL met again, Gentle-
' men; I hope we ſhall
one day meet in Heaven.

Philander. God grant it , good Sebaſtian ;
and truly for my part, I am perſuaded we fhall
the ſooner come there, the more we have of
your Company and Conyerſation in the mean
time.

Sebaft. No Complements, Philander ; T am
glad to obſerve you ſo chearfull. Come, Gen-
tlemen, what think you of our Journey, I ape
| Y

% A Winter-Evening Part III.

by this time BiophiJzs is reſolved : You promi-
ſed, Sir, to conſider of it,

Biophilas. 1 have conſidered a little , but in
truth :1 think Winter no good time for travel-
ling, eſpecially for the undertaking of ſo long
a Journey.

Sebaft. Be not Uiſcouraged, Sir, the Jonrney
is not ſo long as perhaps you may fanſie it to
be; and the way i fo very good, that jt is but
taking vp a good Reſolution , and we ſhall be
there preſently, |

Phil, Nay (if T miſtake not) we may make
ſome conliderable advance that- way, even as we
now fit by the Fire-fide.

Bioph. You talk merrily, P6:l. like a Man
that hath travelled all the world over in a Map,
and yet never went beyond the Smoke of his
own Chifnney.

Sebaſt. You will think it ſtrange perhaps ,

* but jt's very true, tle no time

Winter and Old fo good as Winter for this
& ER Expedition ; the ſhort days ,
ſoneſs of another dark and cold nights, the very
World, dirt and wet, and all the ſeem-

ing diſadvantages of the Sea-

ſon { which probably may rug iv your Head ,
Biophils ) all make for our purpoſe. The Se-
verities of the Weather which confirain vs to
lay afide other bulmefs, give us the more lefſore
to attend this ; the ſhort days are foHlowed with
long evenings , which afford -vs- opportunity to
ſet things in arder, to diſcourſe together, -and
to inſtru and animate one another in onr #1-
tended Enterprize; and in the dark folitary
Nights (our minds being then free from the |
| | giftra-

Part IIt, Conference, Ir \ ;

diſtrattion of variety of ObjeQs ) our thoughts
will run this way with wonderfull ſpeed, if we
do but direct : Ar aright. So that (as Ph;
lander faid ) in truth we may fo order it, as ta
make real progreſs towards our deſigned Port ,
even as we fit. here.

Bioph. Nay, if Philander haye ſuch a Vouchs,
er,, I know not what to ſay ; but in earneſt, I
am ſomewhat too old and crazic to undertake
the Journey.

Sebaft. Nay, believe me, the older the better.
An old Man, if he ſet to it in carneſt, will out.
ſtrip all others in this Voyage ; ſuch Men will
loſe no time in trifles; experience. hath taught
them caution, and made them very wary of all
divetſions and impediments , and they have leſs
clog of fleſh and blood about them. In ſhort,
ſuch Men are fo ſenſible of the inconveniences
of this our preſent Countrey , that it is great
odds, but they will put on fo vigorouſly, as tp
get to their Journey's end-before. the youngeſt
gf us all, Beſides all which it is very conſide-
rable, that the older and more infirm any Man
is, the mare need he hath of the relief of that
__ and wine ys Lua to be at reſt in
that quiet and peaccable Reli- ,
gian of Uranis *, whither we kn —_ ll
are going.
p oy. I ſte yau are too many for me at this
way of Drollery ; but now that I know where.
abouts you are, I muſt be forced to tell you

inly, that (though I very much eſteem your

any) I ara forry you are fallen again upon
this Romance of Uranis : Is it not time to lay
aide this new kind of Knight-Errantry.
Aa : Sebaſt.

4 4 Winter- Evening Part III

Sebaſt. You may remember, Brophilas, ( by
what paſſed between us-at our laſt meeting) that
by Urania we mean nothing lefs than the King-
dom of Heaven ; and by taking a Journey thi-
ther , we (conſequently ) intend nothing elſe
than Religion and 2 devout proſecution of hap-
pineſs in another World. Now therefore , if
you will not be perſuaded to bear us Company
in the Expedition, yet -can you find in your
heart to reproach either the end or the means
(as you ſtem to doe) the former under the con-
temptible name of a Romance, and the latter
by that of Knight-Errantry.

What, in the Name of God, do you call

Realities, if theſe things be
- The Vanity of Romantick > As for the pre-
a P wah - _ ſent World, it is notorioutly a
which a t) come, mere piece of Pageantry, and

all the glory of it pafles away
in a vain ſhew; and if in it ſelf it were not al-
together ſo inconfiderable as experience ſhews
it to be; yet humane life is ſo very ſhort, that
a Man can be lite more than a SpeCtator of
that Pomp as it paſſes by him. For by that
time he begins to live, he more than begins to
die. Either - therefore there muſt be another
Life and a World to come in reality, or elſe no-
thing at all is fo, but all is Romance indeed.

Bioph. IT cry you mercy, if I uſed an inde-
cent Expreſſion. I did not intend to give any of-
fence, nor is it either my temper or cuſtom to
put affronts upon other Mens Perſuaſions ; but
I appeal to,you, Sebaſtian (as a Man of Judg-
ment )- what name onghr I to'call that thing
by, of which (when [ hear Men talk confident-

ly

Part III, Conference. | 5

ly ) I have, notwithſtanding neither any ſenſe
in my own Mind, nor ſee any rational ground
to believe it. ©

Sebaſt. T acknowledge your Civility, good
Biophilas, and in anſwer to your queſtion, I tell
you truly, that without any
offence to me you may call” 379 —_
that thing by what name you 21,7 7
pleaſe, of which no rational
account” cati be given (let Men. talk as confi-
dently of it as they will) provided you have ta-
ken full Information about it, and have ſo ma-
turely and impartially conſidered of it, that you
may be thought a competent Judge in the
Caſe: But otherwile, let me tell you, you may
happen to call'fome of the moſt certain, truths
in nature by forne ſuch opprobrious names ;
foraſmuch as ſome very certain things may on
the ſudden, and at the firſt glimpſe, ſeem not
only mere Paradoxes, bur_utter Impoſſibilities ;
which yet afterwards, upon more deliberate in-
quiry, will abundantly confute that cenſure by
their own evidence.
Andeven in ſenſible Perceptions, you know
it. is not ſufficient that a Man have eyes in his
head, but there muſt be a fit diſpoſition of thoſe
eyes, a proper medium or well diſpoſed air, con-
venient light, due diſtance of the Object, and
competent time for our ſenſes to ſurvey and
take hold of it , or elſe we ſhall make no true
eftimate of that which js preſented to us. Now
if you transferr this toReligion, and imitate the
fame care and caution in judging of that , you
will doubtleſs be fo far from concluding it to
be a Romance, that you will find it not only

recom-

6 A Wuiter-Eveiiing Pate IF.
recommended fo, you by the wiſedom and ex-
perience of all the World, but agrezable to the
reaſon of your own mind , and. to the internal
ſenſe of your own Conſcience, . And which
more, you will obſerye the belief of thoſe things
it is founded to be ſo.neceflary, and
of ſuch moment arid conſequence, as that they
will appear tv be the very Pillars of the World,
the Bond of humane Society , and. the very
things wherein your own neareſt and. moſt pe-
culiar intereſt is involved; informuch, that it will
be utterly impoſſible that you ſhould cither live
or die comfortably without an hearty perſuaſ-
on of them," . - | :
Biopb., Now you ſpeak like your df, and T
underſfand you, but 1 hope Lunderſtand my ſelf
better than to be willing to be reputed an cne-
my to Civil Society, or much leſs to be as ene-
my to my.{elf; let me therefore foe thoſe two
things (whbzcb us laſt mentioned) cleatly made
out , and ( without farther trouble ito you ) I
fhall think my (af obliged ta take new meaſures,
br at leaſt to. make more diligent inquiry into
Rs Thcagh (hould have been
.- Sebaſt. | 0 e beeq right
to have fonnd. you better reſolved, and. hoc
that this preſcat Conference ſhould rather have
been direfted ro the incouraging one another
in our courſe, than ſpent in diſputing our Port ;
b- in hopes that at length you will become
Votary far the Hol-Laxd, will comply wi
your delires,. and repreſent to you the evidence
of thaſe two things you inbſt upon. |
And far the firit , you will eaily be feaſible
of the influence of Religion upon Civil So-
ciety,

Part IM. Conference: & »

ciety, when you confider how | |
inconceivable it is, that mere ho hm fey
external force of fear of hus "Se. +: es
mate puniſhment ſhould be |
fee 1 1 keep the World in order, when
) lewd and fagi rows Mer)
"6nd ihe efther fecnred from that
SE the ſeerecy of their Plots, or prote-
ren: and multitude. And then
that to the ends afore-
Flet there is a necelity that fore faperiour
fer not only protet Governours' from yſo-
but wag ke the minds of Men with
an awfull Apprehention of them as his Fayoy-
_=- and Vieegerents z but this cannot be done
tt opon fiich Principles of Religjan as we tiow
Neak of; . therefore he that ntfringes that ,
getkens both Law and Goverment , and is
an Enemy to Civil Society,

Agaiti, thert can be no Obligation of Oaths,
#nd vently no my of Pairh and Traſt
between Man and Man, bar pon {ippoſition of
a God that rakes notice of Men doe, and
who will call them to an account accordingly
in another World « ſo rhat the Man who * 0
Kitute e Ont Pertoaions _ wo give £

of his to e, nar ©

ele t hs Briend or Neighbour, or any Man
RE tem 50

, TL pray you, Seraſrian, May not
Mes run one another upon the ſecurity of ho-
nour, good nature, of gratirnde, or fome ſuch
Obligation, without thofe ferters of Conftictce
which you ſpeak of2 |

Sebaſt.

3 A Winter-Eveninzg Pare [lI:

Sebaſt. Alas, alas; Biophilas, all thoſe bonds
which-you mention are too weak to reſtrain the
licentious' humour of Mankind; they may put
ſome little” byaſs upon Mens Spirits, but they
cannot bridle their Paſſions, curb their deſire of
revenge , nox. prevail with them to.deny their
extravagant Intereſts and Inclinations, when
they ſhall have.an opportunity to. gratifie any
of them, as. we find. by daily experience. For
in all the \pl'gatons ( below Religion and
Conſcience ). a Man is ſuppoſed to be account-
able only fo himſelf ; and therefore may. dit-
'penſe with himſelf, and acquit himſelf upon
what terms he _ pleaſes. And therefore wile
Men, and eſpecially wiſe Princes, uſe not to.
truſt to any of thoſe defeifible ſeenrities but on-
ly to that of Religion. AT Ros
Bioph. Wall, but have niot pretenders to Re.
ligion played faſt and looſe with. Laws and
Government,-as well as other Men ? , Nay , ge-
nerally you ſhall obſerve, that a Bigotted ſort of
Men are the, principal Conſpirators and Attors
of moſt of the Tumults and Diſorders in the
cw_RRNSRE.... TX oi: 4.

Sebaſt. 1f_I ſhould obje& to you the daily.
and horrible. Violations of Faith amongſt the
pretenders to Honour, Ingenuity, and Grati-
tiide , I knoiy. you, would anſwer me, That
thoſe perſons were not really Meti of Ho-,
nour, &c. but only pretenders. ' And ſo you
ray anſwer your fclf in this caſe, namely, That.
they are but pretenders to the real.Principles'
of Religion, that fallifie their Faith and: dif-
turb Government. Gs 901

Be-

Part III; Conference. 9

Beſides, if I ſhould grant you, That the ve-
ry Bonds of Religion are not able always to
reſtrain the rage and folly of ſome exorbitant
Perſons ; yet certainly it is the moſt powerfull
means amongſt Mankind to that end, and in-
comparably beyond all thoſe you have named ,
for the ſake of that reaſon I have already given
you. And therefore (as I was about to fay )
you may remember, when upon occaſion, Pro-
lomy King of Egypr, ſent one Theodorxs, in the
quality of his Embafſadour, to Ly/imachz : this
latter refuſes to treat with him , or admit him
under that Charafter, becauſe he was reputed
an Atheiſt; and being ſuch, he looked upon
him as a Perſon with whom there could be no
ſecurity of civil intercourſe.

Bioph. I remember the Story, but I pray you
then ( by the way) if Ly/machws's Objetion
againſt Theodorzes was ſufficient, how came Pro-
lomy notwithſtanding to truſt him with the
management of his affairs ?

Sebaſt. Truly I can give you no other An-
ſwer, but that it ſeems he did not well under-
ſtand the looſe tenure of an Atheiſt , nor had
ſo much prudence as his Neighbour. But let
that paſs, if you pleaſe, and give me leave in
the next place to repreſent to you every Man's
perſonal concern in the truth of Religion ,
which is ſuch (as I intimated before ) that no
man can either live or die comfortably with-
out it.

Bioph, 1, with all my heart. Let Princes
and States alone to manage their own matters,
Shew me but that one Point you laſt mention-
6d, and it ſhall ſuffice in the preſent caſe.

B Sebaft.

io A Winter Evening Part III;
Sebaſt. For that , Biophili#s , you will eaſily
appretiend, that no Man can die chearfully
thay >» ſupports of Religion (I mean if
e die fenſibly, and with his wits about him )
becanfe the very beſt of ſich a Man's Game,
and the fitnm of his expectations can'be btit
this., That he ſhall die like the Beaſt, and that
vital principle in fiſh, which we call the Soul ,
ſhall be abſolutely extinguiſh'd: ſo that he ſhall
- .. theniceforth as perfetly ceaſe
2 tr Foy = to be what he was, as if he
— ,F had never been, Now this 1
Religion. ſuppoſe you will readily grant
.- ____ me, muſt needs be not only

a very uticomfortable proſpect , but ſuch a con-
dition as a Man cannot think of without juſt
abhorrence, nor be reconciled to , without as
reat a CohtradiQtion, as it were for him to be
uppoſed to hate his own being, which ſurely is
impoſſible. mo
Yet (as I faid) this is the very beſt of the
irrelighs s$ Man's caſe, and that which he can
never be ſecure, will be the worſt that thall be-
111 Him; for if it ſhall prove in the iſſue of
things, that there is another World ( and at
feaſt it may doe fo for ought he knows ) then
his cafe is ſo mach worſe, as that now by death
he muſt enter upon an eftate for ever , which
fie hath had tio foreſight of, nor made any pre-
parations for. He encounters a Gbd, whom he
hath taken no care to propitiate towards him-
RIF in all the courſe of his Tife , by any AQts of
Picty and Devotion, and what a difmal plunge
miſt the approaches of Death ( together with
ſuch a ſiirprizal)of neceſſity put fucha Man _
Bioph.

Part III: Conference. 11
* Bioph. As for Death , I ſhall eafily grant all
you fay, for that is no very comfortable thing
at the beſt; the only refuge I know 1s, to make
a vertue of neceſſity, and ſeeing die we muſt, to
take it patiently : but for that reaſon I am re-
ſolved to live as long as I can, and as chearful-
ly too, and why may not this be done without
the buſineſs of Religion ? |
Sebaft. In truth, Biophilzxs, the impoſſibility
of living comfortably, without FR
the helps of Religion, is every Ne Man can Ute
whit as evident as that of dy- ſo bh foley 5
ing ſo, and for the very ſame of Religion.
teaſon , foraſmuch as what-
foever renders Death terrible, muſt needs make
Life uneaſie too. For fince Death is acknow-
ledged to be unavoidable, it cannot chuſe but
run continually in ſuch a Man's Head, Shortly
I muſt die, and either Everlaſtingly ceaſe to be,
or(whichis far worſe) begin to be Eternally mi-
ferable : The leaſt of which two things (with-
out the miſerable refuge of a perpetual De-
bauch to keep ſuch a Man from thinking) muſt
be of force enough to make his Heart ake, and
fo ſpoil all the pleaſures of the preſent Life :
Eſpecially conſidering withall , the uncertainty
of the tenure, and the innumerable accidents of
humane Life ; which laſt circumſtance makes it
to become juſt matter of fear at all times, that
by ſome or other of thoſe accidents of Mortali-
ty, his frail Thread may abruptly be broken ; and
conſequently who knows but by to morrow, not
only all his Projedts and Contrivances , but all

his Delights and Entertainments will ſuffer a to-
al Interruption.

B' 2 But

12 A Winter-Evening Part IIt.

But then , if there be a God and another
World '( which he can never be ſure that there
is not) then he can expett nothing leſs than
very ſuddenly to fall under the vengeance of
thatgreat Majeſty whom he hath always pro-
voked and never appeaſed.

Beſides all this, as we commonly obſerve, that

Atheiſtical Perſons are of all
| The cauſes of yen the moſt timorous; fo
Te timorouſneſs of th . 'r fi .
Atheiſts. there is great reaſon for it,

if we conſider what a dark
and melancholy thing it muſt needs be, for ſo
impotent a Creature as Man is, to live in a
World without a God, and without the ſecu-
rity of a Providence; for there are a thouſand
things confeſſedly too ſtrong for us, and which
are able to cruſh and deſtroy us every moment.
And in this caſe, where a Man hath no help
in himſelf , if he have no Guardian about him
neither, if (I ſay ) he cannot look up to ſome
higher Being as his Patron and Protettor : it
were mere madneſs to be Valiant: for all the
grounds of Courage fail him, and therefore no
wonder if his Spirits be broken and baffled by
the danger of his Caſe, and the loneſomeneſs of
his Condition.

Upon which account a Perſon. of Honour ,
and a great Witt of this preſent Age, acknow-
ledged ſome time before his death ; © Thar,

* although he for his part,

Late Earl of © had no feeling of the com-

Rocheſter. * forts of Religion , yet he
** accounted thoſe to be hap-

** py Men that could and did live under the ad-
* vantage of it, For indeed , life is not life
| | with-

Part III. Conference. 12

with thoſe ſupports which that (and that only)
affordsus. But whena Man hath, by the benefit of
- that holy prudence, put all his intereſt into God's
cuſtody, and ſecured himſelf of another World,
then he begins to live indeed, then he may laugh
at the preſent World, deſpiſe temporal Life, and
defie Death ; foraſmuch as thenceforth he is out
of the reach of Chance, Fate, or Fortune.

Phil. "Tis true, Biophilas, 'tis true, as Seba-
ft1an ſaith, the World to come :
is the only Reality, and Reli- a ce;
gion the only Comfort. O hap- forte of R - "=
py we that know there is a
God in the World, under whoſe Providence we
live! and blefled be that Divine Goodneſs, which
hath provided another World to receive us, and
there promiſed us eternal Life.

O Urania, Urania, ( Heaven I mean) thou
end of Cares and Fears, and beginning of Joy
without end ! thou reſt of Souls, and only fatiſ-
faction of great and wiſe minds ! I am raviſh'd
with the thoughts of thee ; I am fo tranſported
with hopes of thee, that I am become all Life
and Spirit ; methinks I begin to have wings ,
and could fly to Heaven.

Bioph. Sebaſtian ſpeaks ſhrewdly , I confeſs ;
but you, Philander , are too high a Flyer for
me; you are ſo much in the Altitudes, that
you muſt pardon me, if I a little ſuſpect that you
have (according to your former cuſtom) been ta-
king of a chearfull Cup, which, as a wiſe Mah
obſerves, Makes men ſpeak all things by Talents,
1 Eſdr. 3. 21.

Phil. You are in the very right of it, Biophi-
Las, I have taken a Noſe, and a luſty one too (as

B 3 Seba.

14 AA Winter-Evenng Part III.

Sebaſtian will be my Witneſs) ſo that I find my
ſelf not a little elevated at this. time. But, miſ-
take me not, it is not with drink; no ( tho” I
ſay it) I am grown a better Husband, and more
frugal of my time, than to ſpend it on a De-
bauch: or ( if you will ) I am become a great
Coward; and am afraid of an after reckoning.
Bioph What reckoning, Man ?
Phil. Nay, no other than that which Seba-
bn ſtan hath given us warning of,
The fin and dan- the Tadgment to come. For, |
gerbf Drinkenneſs, rſt tell you, I very much
a that the plet- denbe whether God 2m
ſures of it are falſe COUMN WAETIET YO mighty
ory. ( who hath endowed us with
noble Facuities, and thereby
Teems to have deſigned ns for excellent Purpoſes,
and who hath alſo appointed our time to be but
thort in this World } will take it well at our
hands, that we ſhould drown the one, and dri-
vel away the other in Senſuality. |
Bioph. Now you grow ferious, but what made
you 1o brisk even now? In truth 1 ſuſpected
you might have been bitten with your own Dog
(as they fay) and had prevented the Civility
of my Houſe by a liberal Glafs at home. |
Phil, O Riophitns, 1 thankGod, T am come to
that paſs now; that T can dahce-without'a Eid-
dle, and be merry withour'the aid of the Battle;
2nd T1look pon thoſe Mien to' be in a very piti-
able condition that cannot/doe fo. For \| have
Tearned, 'by mmy former gnhappy experience, what
thoſe 141d Conſolations ave: mere cheats nu
rare; cures of Melancholy ;iand thoier-
haps a.man may by the'help of:thern rid kim-
elf of thetrouble -of his -blyn thoughts for vhe
j 42: + E.v 340 G þ- 56 preſent

Part III. Conference. 15

preſent (which is all that Wine can pretend to)
= he doth but reprieve himſelf for a time, and
e will find himſelf again juſt where he was, as
ſoon as he becomes ſober; for Conſcience is not
tobe totally drowned in Drink, nor the clamour
thereof to be deaded by the noiſe of Huzza's.
Sebefe. It is very true which Pbilander faith;
for generally the Mirth of a Debauch , as it is
rained and artificial, ſo it cannot laſt long :
it is at beſt but like the effects of a ſtrong Cor-
dial, which may ſerve to rally the Spirits for
ſome preſent encounter, but then they are ſpent
in the Conflit, and fall and flag again quickly
after; or like thoſe mighty efforts which you
ſhall obſerve ſome Perſons to make in a Conyul.
fon , the reſult of which will be, that ſuch a
Man ſhall become fo much lefs than himfelf af-
ter the Fit, as he was more than himſelf whilft
it was upon him : for any Man ſhall find, that
whenſoever the Spirits are extraordinarily exhi-
larated and dilated, they thereby become ſo thin
and volatile , that they eaſily exhale and vaniſh,
and fo a Man becomes far more melancholy and
Jumpith after, ,than he was before, ' ;
But now in Intellectual delights and enter-
tainments, wherein a Man may .be merry and
wiſe together, and ſo have no fear of an after-
reekoning to pall the preſent'Enjoyment , and
eſpecially in ſich Bleaſures as come. in upon the
Account of Religion , they afford a till and ſe-
date delight, which refreſh' the Heart' more
than dilate*the Countenance , and [gently raiſe
-and ftrengthei the Spirits, but 'do-not in any
- Mealure exhauſt them. DI Joy Fn

B 4 Bioph.

16 A Winter-Evening Part III,

Bioph. You diſcourſe Ingeniouſly , Sebaſtian,
but ſure you have not mended the Matter : for
it is as good to be drunk with Wine as with
Conceitedneſs , which is the more laſting Diſ-
temper ; and I pray let me ſee if you can ex-
cuſe this tranſport of Philander from fanati-
ciſm as well as from that which IT at firſt ſu-
ſpeed, for ſure it muſt be one of them.

That religiow Jo Sebaſt. Why, Biophilus, do
is not fanatical, & you think a Man cannot be
rhe nature of Fana- Chearfull, unleſs he be either
ticiſm explained. Mad or Drunk >

Bioph. It ſeems then, in your opinion, Fana-
ticiſm is Madneſs.

Sebaſt. Truly, Sir, I profeſs to you, T take
it to be little better; eſpecially, if it be in any
high Degree. For what (I pray you) is it
to be Mad, but for a Man's Fancy or Paſſions fo
to get head of him, that he is hurried on wild-
ly and extravagantly by ſuch an unaccountable
impetzs, as that his Reaſon (the common Prin-
ciple of Mankind ) is not able to reſtrain or go-
vern him.2 And on the other fide, what is it
for a Man to fear without Danger, and to hope
without Ground; to believe without Reaſon ,
and to think, and ſpeak, or doe ſuch Things ,
whereof he can give no account which is intel-
ligible by the reſt of Mankind 2 This I take to
be Fanaticiſm ; - and this is as plainly a Diſeaſe
and a Fit of the Body, as thoſe Convulſions
which we ſpake of but now. , - |

As for Example, 1f you fhall obſerve a Man
pretend tohelieve plain Impoſlihilities, and not
only Supinely and Credulouſly. ſwallow them,
but confidently avouch and maintain them ; it

guiſes may .,

Part III. Conference. 17

may be in regard of his Seriouſneſs and good
Meaning , you will call him an Enthuſiaſt or
Fanatick: Yet foraſmuch as you are fatisfied ,
that the Things he is ſo confident of, are Con.
traditions to the common Senſe and Experi-
ence of Mankind ( notwithſtanding his Confi-
dence and Devotion ) you will conclude he is
governed by other Principles than thoſe of a
Man, and conſequently, that he is befides hint
ſelf, and under ſome degree of Madneſs.
Again, When you ſe a Man, who can make
no Pretence to any Charater of publick Aus
thority, nor can give any ſufficient Proof of any
ſpecial and extraordinary Commiſſion from
God Almighty , ſhall notwithſtanding be afted
by ſuch a heady and intemperate Zeal, as to ſy-
erſede the publick Magiſtrate, and take upon
imſelf to govern and reform the World ; this
indeed is Fanaticiſm, but ir cannot be acquitted
of ſome Spice of Madneſs withall.
Or laſtly (to come more home to you) When
a Man ſhall be perplexed with endleſs Scruples,
and Fears and Doubts of the Danger and Dam-
nableneſs of ſuch Thingsas are manifeſtly the Vi-
olation of no Law, and ſhall be dejected in his
Conſcience, and ready to fink into Deſperati-
on ; at ſuch Time as yet he is not conſcious to
himſelf of either omitting any known Duty ,
or committing any wicked Thing: Or on the
other fide, When ſuch a Man ſhall run into the
other Extream , and be tranſported with Joy,
and raviſhed with Comfort ; but upon no more
intelligible Grounds, than he had before for his
Fears and Dejetions of Spirit. Both theſe
Caſes may be yery pitiable, but they are as =
4th plain

1$ A Winter-Evening Part II.

plain Symptoms of a crazie Mind, as they are
Inſtances of Fanatieiſm. But —

Bioph. I am very glad to hear theſe Things
from you, Sebaf1an, and that you have ſo ſlight
an Opinion of that Sort of Men, who make
ſuch a Figure, or rather fuch- a Duſt in the
World.

Sebaſ#. So far then we are agreed, but by
your Favour, I believe all this which I have
faid will make nothing towards the Proof of
your Charge againſt Philander ; for though I
impute Unreafonable and Extravagant Rap-
tures to Fancy rather than to Faith , oy ac-
count them rather a Diremper of the Bod
than the Devotion of the Mind ; yet 1 ny
tell you after all, that True and Manly Religion
is no cold and comfortlefs Thing, it is not a
lukewarm Notionality, not a formal and bay-
ardly round of Duties, not a dull remperamen-
zum ad pondrs, as they cal] it, but 1s lively, vi-
gorous and ſparkling, and hath its Joys and Ra-
viſhments too ; only they are more fedate and
governable, as well as more rational and accoun-
table, than thoſe we ſpake of before; and fo 1
ſuppoſe you will find it to be with Philonder :
He hath expreſs'd ſome heat, but not without
light, and is both able to govern his Expreſſi-

ons, and to give you a ſober Reaſon of them.
Phil. Hearty Thanks, dear Sebaſtian, for
vindicatins me -from the "mif-apprehenfions my
innocent joy had expoſed me to with Biophilee ;
and herein you have not only done me a kind-
ne, but obliged all good Men, and done a
right to true Piety it ſelf, which is apt to be
put out of .Countenance with the Imputation

of

Part III. Conference. 19

of Fanaticiſm, and o far it ſuffers thereby, that
a great many well-diſpoſed ( but over-baſhfull
and timorous) Men are tempted to a very
ſtrange kind of Hypocrifie, and to pretend
themſelves worſe than they are, and to trim it
off in the indifferent ſtrain of the World, for
fear of incurring the Cenſure of being Zealots
and Bigots in Religion.
But now I ſhall take heart,
The trge Grownds of and adventure to let -my
Comfort in Religion. Tight ſhine out abroad, as
well as burn within my
Breaſt. And I cannot forbear upon this oc-
caſion to return my moſt humble Thanks to
God Almighty, who hath given me cauſe to
hope in his Goodneſs, and the Cordial of that
Hope, hath in fome meaſure antidoted we a-
gainſt the Troubles and Vexations of this pre-
ſent World ; for I profes to you, there is fo
much of Care and Fear, - of Labour and Pain,
of Sorrow and Difquiet here below, what by
croſs Aocidents and Iiſappointments, what by
the Malice of vil Men, or by the Follies, Pec-
vithnef, and Fealoufies of weak and ſilly Men ;
that were -it not for the Proifpett of a better
State of Things above, and of Reſt and Peace,
Stability and Satisfaction in avother World, 1
ſhould .be very far from being fond of this pre-
ſent 'Life. But now when 41 conſider and am
ftisfied, that at'rhe worſt 1am under a Provi-
fence, fo that nothing befails by Chance, or by
the mere Will of Man, bat by Divine Ap-
pointment and Ordination ; and conſequently
here iis nothing but what he both can and will
make ito 'wark for Good in the aany =
| Fe 0 | | nd

20 A Winter-Evenng Part II.

And when withall I find my ſelf reſolved to
ſubmit to his wiſe Purpoſes, by which means it
is in my Power to be wiſer and better by all
Occurrences; and in fo doing, have my Hopes
improved into ſome Meaſure of Afurance, that
I ſhall in due time be tranſlated into thoſe hap-
py Regions above. This comforts my Heart
under all the preſent Inconveniencies, and not
only ſupports my Spirits, but chears them, and
refreſhes my very Countenance. And ſometimes
ie happens, that the more the Vexations of the
World had depreſs'd me, the higher do theſe
Contemplations raiſe me ; ſo that IT break out
into ſuch an holy triumph and bravery, as that
which you ( Biophilzs } took notice of in me ſince
we came together.

Sebaſt. What think you now, Biophilas, is
Philander Mad or Drunk ?

Bioph. No, I acknowledge he ſpeaks like a
Man, or an Angel rather ( if there were any
ſuch thing) but ill I ſuſpet there is ſome
Trick or other in it ; I cannot fatisfie my ſelf
in theſe religious Braveries, as he calls them.

Sebaſt, Why, Biophilus, what is there to a-
muze you in this Matter ? Conſider with your
ſelf, how can it be otherwiſe, but that he who
is throughly ſatisfied that it is neither blind
Chance, nor ſurly Fate, nor ſome IIL-natur'd
and Unlucky Being ; but contrary-wiſe, a Great
and Wiſe and Good God, that Governs the
World : how can it be (I fay) but that ſuch
a Man muſt needs be very Comfortable under
ſuch a ProteCtion ?

Or how can it come to paſs that a Man that
lives Virtuoully and Piouſly, wha approves _

elf

Part ITT. Conference. 31

ſelf to his own Reaſon and Conſcience, and, as
near as he can, to the Mind of that Great God,
who Made, and Governs the World, ſhould be
Tormented with pannick Fears of he knows not
what ; ſince, whether he looks upward or down-
ward, into himſelf or abroad, there is Nothing
can hurt him ; Nothing but what muſt needs
chear him with an hopefull expeRation of a
good iflue of ſuch a courſe in the upſhot of
things ; eſpecially if with-

all he have a firm belief of The admirable and
Eternal Life in another yy, —_—_—
World, and of unſpeakable 7," 5 0
joy and felicity there at-

tainable, and certainly tro be enjoyed by him
that purſues it in his life by ſach a courſe of
Vertue and Piety as aforeſaid. How can you
imagine that ſuch a man ſhould be down in the
mouth ( as we fay) or dull and out of Hu-
mour ? Nay, rather, how is it poſſible he ſhould
be able to ſmother ſuch hopes, and conceal
ſuch joys? no, they are too great to be kept
ſecret in his boſori ; they will break out now
and then in triumphant expreſſions.

Eternity, Biophilzes, Eternal Life (IT mean )
is ſo great, ſo ..5rious, ſo admirable an hap.
pineſs, that I ©: never be perſwaded that man
really believes it, and hath any good meaſure
of hopes that he {hall attain it, who can be fo
reſerved and Stoicz!, as to keep his countenance
whenever h= thinks of it.

Do but judge with your ſelf, if you could
have ground to believe you ſhould never forgo
this preſent life, but for ever enjoy your Houſe,
your Wife and Children, nor ever be _

rom

$4. © If Winter-Evening Part III.

from thoſe wiſe and good Friends you have
made choice of ; that no Accident, no Diſeaſe,
hor Matice of Men or evil Spirits could reach
you ; but you might purſue your Deſigns, and
meet with nothing to Interrupt the Train of
your Thonghts and Projeftions, ſo that you
could know Death only in Speculation ; in this
Caſe you may eaſily imagine, how much at eaſe
2 Man's Thoughts would be, how ſecure his
Mind, how bold his Spirit, and how chearfull
his Countenance. But now to live for ever in
the Glories of the Kingdom of Heaven, to be
not only ſecure from all Pain or Care, Fear or
Danger, but to be in the Poſſeſſion of Perfe&t
and Conſummate Blif, to enjoy the Favour of
God, the Prefence of the ever-bleſſed Feſws,
and the perpetual Society of all Good Men made
perfect, and free from their Ignorances, Errors,
Paſſions and Infirmities. This is a State of Life
that I proteſt T cannot think of without Afto-
niſhment, nor ſpeak of without a Paffion, nor
hope for without a Rapture. |

Bioph. T fhould eafily conſent to you in all
this, Sebaſtian, if I thought it was real; for I
am neither fo fond of a Grave, as not to be de-
firous to live as Tong as it is poſſible, nor fo ſe-
vere to my felf, as to be willing to want any of
thofe Comforts of Life and Supports in Death
that are attainable ; but, in truth, I ſuſpect all
thefe great Things, Philander, that you talk of
to be but pleaſant Dreams, and the high rants
of Fancy.

Sebajt. But why fhould you think fo, Biophi-
Is, feeing it is very plain, that the ſobereſt and
beſt Men are of this Perſiwafion ; and: for as

mo

—— MS Aw. @oo 44 oiDococo acc

Part III. Conference. "oy

moſt part, the better the Men are, the more
tively is their ſenſe of theſe Things. Can you
imagine that either God Almighty ſhould put
a Cheat upon the very Beſt of Mankind ( and
npon them eſpecially?) or can you think, that
the Beſt of Men ſhould be the greateſt Lyars,
and pretend to that of which they had no real]
Grounds ? I pray therefore be free with me,
and tell me the Cauſes of your Miſtruft in this
Caſe.

B?oph. T think I have Reaſon to doubt theſe
high ences to the wonderfull Comforts of
Religion, in the firſt place ; becauſe I obſerve
the State of Mankind to be generally very un-
eaſie. and the World to be full of nothing more
than Melancholy and Complaint, which ſure
could not be, if there were ſuch effeftual Re-
medies ready at Hand, and ſuch an Hearts-Eaſe
in Religion

Sebaſt. I will anſwer you in that preſently,
but I pray firſt tell me ( by the way ) what do
you think is the reaſon that there are ſo many
fickly and yaletudinary People in the World 2
Biophb. Truly I think we may reſolve the
greateſt part of thoſe long and tedious Diſtem-
pers, under which ſo many People languilh, in-
to Surfeits and other Inſtances of their own
Riot and Luxury.
| Sebaſt, Very well, but you do not yet reach
my meaning; I ask you therefore again, Do
you not think that there are a great many a-
mongſt thoſe that pine away under the afore-
faid Ffngring Diſtempers, who might poſſibly
receive help and caſe, if they took due care of

themfelves ?
Bieph.

24 A Winter- Evening Part II.

Bioph. Yes doubtleſs, for in thoſe chronical
Diſeaſes there is time for Advice and Applica-
tion, and fit intermiſſions for Medicines to take

lace in ; but the miſchief is, ſome Men are

umourſome and obſtinate, and will take no
Advice what-ever comes of it : others deliver
themſelves up to Empiricks and unskilfull Per-
ſons, who often make the Diſeaſe worſe than
it was; and then there are ſome ſo ſoft and de-
licate, that although they have good Advice
given them, and. might be cured, yet will not
follow the Rules that are preſcribed to them.

Sebaſt. Very good, now you have ſaved me
the labour, and have anſwered your own Ob-

jection againſt the real com-

The Go of e-"- fortableneb of Religion: For

= —_— * there are the ſame three ac-

| counts to be aſſigned of the

uncomfortableneſs of Mens Spirits, which you

have given of the ſickly Eſtate of their Bo-
dies, vis,

In the firſt place there are ſome Men who
fanſie themſelves either too Wiſe to be advi-
ſed, or think the Caſe of Humane Nature too
deſperate to be cured ; and therefore grow
Moroſe and Sceptical, and will rather cloak
themſelves up in a muſty melancholy Reſerved-
neſs for the preſent, and run the venture of all
for the future, than give themſelves the trou-
ble of any ſerious thoughts of Religion. Now
you cannot expect that theſe Men ſhould find
the Comfort of Religion, who were ſo far from
making Experiment of it, that they were afraid
of it, like thoſe Wiſe Men that for fear they
ſhould one time or other be poiſoned, will there-
fore never eat any Meat. Bioph,

Part IIT. Conference. 25

- Bieph. If you would pardon my interrupting
of you, I could tell you for all this, -that there
are ſome certain Men in the World (though
not many I confeſs) who enjoy themſelves very
well, and yet never were in Debt to any Reli-
gion for it. |

Sebaſt. Very likely, Biophilus, for fo as I re-
member, King Fohn killed a very fat Stag that
had never heard Maſs in its Life; and fo you
ſhall ſee an Oxe in the Stall, let him but have
Meat and Drink and Eaſe enough, he never re-
pines at the approach of the Day of Slaughter :
In like manner thereare aſort of dull unthinking
Men, that paſs away their Time in a pleafant
Dream of Senſuality, and never feel any want
of the Conſolations of Re-
ligion ; but it is not becauſe How it comes to paſs
there is no need of them, a m_ rr
but becauſe ſuch Perſons do ,,"004 and Religion,
not feel the need, nor in-
deed are ſentible of any thing elſe that is Man-
ly and Generous.

If I ſhould tell you it was dangerous being
upon ſuch a- precipice, I ſuppoſe you would
not think it a Contu..tion of my Caution to
tell me, that notwithitanging a certain blird
Man flept and ſhored ſecurely upon it ; for real
Danger is Danger whether Men be apprehen-
five of it or no: or if you ſhould obſerve a
poor Man to dream of Plenty, and all the Af-
fluence of the World, you will not count him
to be as happy as he that really enjoys thoſe
Things ; a Dream is one Thing, and real Fe-
licity is another : and though the former fan-
ties himfelf for the praſent as Happy as the 0-

C ther,

26 A Winter-Evenng Part III,

ther, yet Iam ſure you, who know one is a-
fleep and the other awake, do not think it to be
fo. Thus it is in Religion.

Bioph. Your pardon again; it is not only
true that ſome ſtupid and incapable Perſons are
at hearts.caſe without Religion , but you ſhall
obſerve ſome of a better mold , polite and in-
genious Men, live very pleaſantly, and yer are not
beholden to Religion for it.

Sebaſt, It may be fo ; but then IT doubt the
muſt be beholden to the Bottle for it, whic
they muſt ply continually too, to keep them
from thinking : for-I have ſhewed you already ,
that it is as impoſſible for a thinking Man ( out
of a Debauch, and who cannot but be ſenſible
that he muſt die ) to be Comfortable without
the Aids of ſome Religion or other ; as it is
for you or me to caper and frolick upon the
brink of ſuch a Precipice as we ſpoke of but
now. In ſhort, Such Men as have Eyes in their
Heads have no other Refuge, but to wink hard,
that they may not be ſenſible of their Danger.

And fo much for that. Now, if you pleaſe,
I will proceed. In the ſecond Place then there
is (as you well obſerved) another ſort of Men,
who, though they are not ſo refraftary and con-
tumacious as to defy the whole Art of Phyfick
( as a perfe:t Cheat ) yet out of Stingineſs, or
ſome other Folly , will- apply themſelves only
to Quacks and Mountebanks , who , inſtead of
curing their preſent Infirmities , by unskilfull
Management, render them more dangerous and
intolerable. So it is in this Caſe of Religion
and the Minds of Men, there are thoſe who do

not abandon themſelves to deſperate Atheiſm ,
nor

-_—_ we R—_—y EY —_— =

Part III; Conference. 27
nor ſceptically caſt off all Care of Religion ; but
finding they cannot be at caſe without ſome
Regard of. God, and Provifion for another
World ; yet (not falling into the hands of thoſe
that were able to principle them right) enter-
tain ſuch imperfect and inconſiſtent Notions of
Religion, as can really afford them no ſolid Con-
folation. And this is a ſecond Cauſe why the
World is ſo uncomfortable, notwithſtanding all

the relief that Religion pretends to give.
As for Example, Suppoſe a Man believes there

1s a God, yet if he look upon ;
him under the Notion of a £7 Netio of
. ecrgron
cruel and unrelenting Tyrant , .,,, ,xconforrable.
governed by mere will, and
who aims at nothing but the ſecuring and
greatning his own power , and conſequently is
to far unconcerned for any of his Creatures, that
it is all one to him whether they be ſaved or
damned eternally; you will eaſily grant me ,
that the Belief of ſuch a God cannot be ve-
fy comfortable, ſince a Man cannot think
of him , nor much leſs exerciſe any aCt of De-
votion towards him without Horrour and Af-

frightment.

Or, again, Suppoſe a Man ſhould entertain a
leſs horrid Notion of God , as that though he
be not ſuch a Monſter as the former rendered
him : yet that he is a nice and captious Deity,
very teachy and hard to pleaſe, that would
make no candid and equitable Interpretation ,
nor allow of Sincerity and good Meaning , but
muſt have his mind to a tittle, and every thing
muſt be done preciſely according to Rule ; and
conſequently, muſt needs be able to find fre-
C2 quent

28 A Winter- Evening Part ".

quent occaſions againſt his Creatures, and was
likely as often to animadvert ſeverely upon:
them. This muſt needs be: a very' uncomfor-
table Principle of Religion, as well as the for-
mer,ſince ſuch a Godis only the Obje& of Fear,
and not of Love, and all Fear hath Torment ,
x John 4. 18.
Moreover, Put caſe a Man ſhon]d have a more
kindly and benign Notion of God, - than either
of the former , but yet finds himſelf perfectly
at a loſs how to pleaſe the Divine Majeſty, and
propitiate him towards himſelf; in regard he
knows of no Declaration of his Mind and Will,
that he hath made ( becaue he either never
heard of, or doth not believe the Holy Scrip-
tures ) it is impoſſible but that a devout Mind
in this Caſe muſt be very much perplexed and
uneaſie; and the more devout the Man is , the
more will his Perplexity be, in regard that
when he hath done all he can to pleaſe God, he
cannot reſt ſatisfied, whether he hath ſerved or
difſerved him all the while. Which in a great
meaſure was the condition of the Gentile World,
for lack of Divine Revelation; and therefore
they were neceſſitated in their Devotions to
make uſe of abundance of various Rites, in
hopes, that if one fort of them miſſed , the 0-
ther might hitt to be acceptable to the Deity.
And when all was done , they were not ſure
that either , or any of them , was perfettly a-
Ireeable to his mind : And therefore, as their
Devotion muft needs be ſuperſtitious in the na-
ture of it; ſo conſequently it muſt be attended
with pannick Fears, and uncomfortable Appre-
henfiors, as the Fruit of it,
no] Further-

P_-
—_

Part TIT. © Conference. 29

'.. Furthermore, - Let us ſuppoſe a Man of fo
high an Attainment in Religion.,. as . that he
had ſome Intimations of the Divine Will, as to
Matter of Fact, but yet was under a Diſpenſa-
tion of Religion, .which-(at leaſt in the letter of
it ). conſiſted mainly of ſundry nice and curious
Obſervances ; ſuch as the abſtaining from ſuch
or ſuch Meats; the performing ſuch or ſuch
Rites and Ceremonies; of none of which he
could give himſelf any.rational Account, or be
conſcious of any other Obligation-to them, but
only, this-is commanded , and thus. it muſt be
(which was the Caſe of the Superſtitious Fews,
as it is alſo of a ſort of degenerate, and Judai-
zing Chriſtians) now 'it is plain that this State
of Religion muſt needs be very uncomfortae
alſo; becauſe a Man muſt of neceſſity drag on
very heavily, .where his Reaſon doth not go be-
fore him, and his Judgment is not convinced of
the Goodneſs and. Excellency: of thoſe, Obſer-

yances, as well as of: the Neceſlity of. them...
Laſtly, If a Man was under a Religion which
could give him no afſarance of..any reward of
his Devotion ; -but that for ought he knew he
might at laſt have only his Labour for his Pain :
Foraſmuch as there was no way to afſure him
whether it ſhould be his portion to rot for ever
in the Grave, or whether after Death he ſhould
'be transformed into ſome other Creature ; or
that though . the Name and Memory of his
good Actions ſhould remain, yet his particular
erſon was to be ſwallowed up into the Womb
of general Nature, and he far ever loſt (ſuch as
which were the utmoſt hopes of the generality

of the Blind Pagans.)

- Now,

30 4A Winter-Evening Part III,

Now, I fay , ſuch Principles of Religian as
this, or any of the aforementioned; muſt needs
be very uncomfortable; but all theſe, Biophilze,
are as manifeſtly falſe, as they are ſadly melan-
choly, and therefore it is not any defett in Reli-

ion that the Spirits of Men are uncomfortable,
Put the default of thoſe bad notions they have
taken up, inſtead of the true Principles of Re-
Ugion. And ſo much for that ſecond fort of
en. | _—

Bioph, T am wonderfully pleaſed with this
laſt Diſcourſe of yours, .in which you have not
more demonſtrated the uncomfortablenefs, than
expoſed the nonſenſe and abſurdity of a great
number of Religioniſts; and therefore fa far 1
thank you. But then again, I muſt tell you ,
wpon due confideration, ir makes as much a-
eainſt your ſelf as any of them, fo far as con-
cerns the point in hand between us. For after
all that can be ſaid, it is undeniable, that fome
"Men of very different perfuations, are as chear-
full-in their ſeveral and reſpetive ways, one as
the other : now foraſmuch as theſe cannot all
be true, in regard they contradict each other ;
doth it not therefore follow from hence,” that
the comfortablenefs of Mens Spirits doth not
depend merely upon Religion, but upon fome-

thing eſe? ny |

Sebaſt. Tn truth you follow me very cloſe,

yet I have two or three things

The cauſes of the + ſay, which I do not doubt
will acquit me in what I have
| {igjons. ſaid, and 1 hope may fatisfie

| you. Firſt, It is to be copſi-
dered, that a Man may be ſound in his Prin

Part III, Conference. 2 1

ples of Religion , and right for the main;, who
yet may differ from other Men , and perhaps
from the truth too , fo much as to make him
be reputed of a different Religion 3 yet not-
withſtanding thoſe great Principles which he
is found in, and that. honeſt zeal he ſhews in
the proſecution of them, will procure him ac-
ceptance with God , and inable him to live ve-
ry comfortably; for fervent Devotion will co-
ver a multitude of Errors, as well as charity
doth @ multitude of ſins, And this is to be ho-
ped is the condition of a great many well-mean-»
ing, but deluded People.

Again , Secondly , It is obfervable in this
caſe, that many warm themſelves &y parks
their own kindling, and are heated more by their
own Motion, than by the Grounds and Cauſes
of it : Zeal tiaturally warms-the Btood, and
whatſoever warms, in ſome meaſure cgmforts
too ; inſomuch that ſome men of very raſcally
Opinions, and ſuch as in the conſequences of
them , tend towards Hell , -are: yet raifed up
towards Heaven by the power of an aftive and
heated Phancy. |

But, after all, you muſt remember ( what
I cid before) that Truth is Truth, and Dream
is Dream ; my meaning is, the Man-of.a mighs
ty Zeal in his way, may ſeem to himſelf happy
( whatever his Principles be ) but it is only
the Man of ſound Principles of Religion, that
can be truly and underſtandingly and conſtantly
comfortable. 127 1903

And now Þ ſuppoſe I may come tothe Third
and Laſt fort of Men which diſparage Religi+
en (juſt as an unruly Patient diſcredits his Phy

C4 ſician )

32 A Winter-Evenimg Part IIE

4 wicked life fician ) ' namely, thoſe who,
cannot be comfarta- Though they have right noti-
ble, if a Man's Re ons of Religion, yet live care-
/igion be never ſo .\eſly, and are by no means an-
9s. - © ſwerable to their Principles in
the condutt 'of their Lives.

-. Now it can be no wonder, fior any ſlander
to'Religion, that ſuch Men who live wickedly
ſhould be uncomfortable in their-Spirits. For
we. may"'as well *expect” this cold Weather to
warm' oar 'ſelves' by a Gloe-worm,-or a paint-
ed-Fire\, 'as that any Man's Heart ſhould- be
truly chearfull by the- advantage of a Religion
which confifizd-only in Notion, -and was not
vigorouſly: prafiſed : /Nay-it would be a won-
der indeed if ſuch a Man fhould not be ſadly me-
lancholy; lying tontinually ander .the laſhes of
his own Confſeience ,' for contradicting; the very
Principles of ihis'own Mind. "And this is fo far
from 'reffefting any: diſhonour: upon Religion,
that it-'is a mighty Vindication 'of the truth
and--powey'of it, . when 7a Man's own Heart
Thall revenge: upon him his-contempt of her Di-
Ctates and Sentiments ; and certainly. the- bet-
ter and 'more-generous a Maris Principles are
(which he in this manner violates: by a lewd
Life:) :ſ\o:muTfi more ſharp will be the ſtings of
Conſcience; and the uneafſineſs of his Condi-
tion. -: *i:3; DUEL 1 5-09
*. But now ,-.take.a Man who to:right Princi-
ples in his-mind joins a conformable Holy Life,
and (as there is all the reaſon in the World for
it;;fo) it:is:4 thouſand to one in; experience, /but
he 'lives comfortably. And thus Fthink I have
fully: acquitted :my ſelf of 'yaur /prime Obje-
\ b!0iL k-2 Aion

Part IH. Conference. 33

ion againſt the Comfortableneſs of Religion: -

Bioph. 1 confeſs, Sebaſtian, you have ſpoke a
great deal of Reaſon, but yet perhaps you are
not ſo clearly come off as you may imagine : for
E have till to objett, that many Men of your
Principles, and who (as it ſeems) incontequence
of them, carry it ſometimes with full ſail of
Joy and courage, yet at other times are not able
to maintain this tide, but flag, and are as
much down by fits as other Men ; nay, do
you ' not - obſerve. that there are Men in the
World, whoſe Principles I know you will allow,
and withall whoſe lives you cannot blame, and
yet theſe very Men ſhall be remarkably uncom-
fortable, and no Men fuller of complaints and
more uneaſje than they. Therefore it ſeems Re-
ligion is neither ſuch a ſtable Principle of Com-
fort, nor ſuch a Panaces, ſuch a general remedy
of the Tronhles of Humane Life, as is pretend-
ed: if you can reconcile this with your former
affertions, IT think I ſhall then be forced to yield
yon the Cauſe.

Sebaſt. It is true which you obſerve, That
ſometimes thoſe that ſeem to |
have all the advantages of Re- _—_ wy 2
ligion, are notwithſtanding un- 2 - ann Two
comfortable under them, and 5.
yet this 'may be no impeach-
ment either'of the truth, or of the efficacy of
thoſe Principles. For this which you ſpeak of
may come to paſs upon ſeveral other accounts
as, namely, |

In the firſt place, it may be that he, in whoſe
whole courſe of life we can obſerve no blemiſh,
may notwithſtanding be juſtly charged by his

, own

34 AWinter-Evenng Part Il.

own Conſcience for ſeveral ſuch miſcarriages
as may well make him uneaſie till he hath made
his Peace with God and himſelf again, by
hearty Repentance and Reformation. Now
you muſt not impute this to the defe&t of Con-
ſolation in the Principles of Religion, but to
the man's own defect of Piety. For whenſoe-
ver we ſee a Man troubled for violating the
Rules of his Religion, we have a kind of ſenſj-
ble experiment of the great reality and mighty
power of it; and this may happen, though you
ſee not the cauſes of it,

Again, It may be the Perſon who now lives
yery vertuouſly, and conſequently might live
comfortably upon the Principles of Religion,
hath formerly been a great finner: and now,
though his Repentance hath made his Peace
with God, and fo there is nothing juſtly to in-
terrupt his Comfort ; yet as often as he refles
upon the hainouſheſs of his former miſcarriages,
no wonder if the briskneſs of his Spirit be aba-
ted, if it be but by the Conſideration of the
Danger he hath eſcaped.

Again, It may happen that he who is not in-
deed conſcious to himfelf of any guilt which
ſhould deje&t his confidence towards God; yet
by the malicious artifice of the great Enemy of
Mankind, may have ſuch black and frightfull
fancies raiſed in his head, as may very much diſ-
compoſe him for the preſent, till by Prayer and
Application to the Grace of God he oyercomes
them.

Moreover ſometimes, when all is well with-
in, and a Man's own Heart doth not accuſe him,
yet it may happen that outward affitions my
Pet Tn OOTene -

Part IIs Conference, 35

be ſo vexatious, ſo ſharp and pinching to him,
that for a time even a good Man's Spirits may
be diſordered by them, till he recollect himſelf,
and, Sampſon like, ſhake off thoſe Philiftims that
are upon him ; ] mean untill he rally the forces
of his Reaſon, or rather till by faith he take
Sanctuary, in the impregnable Fortreſs of Con-
ſcience and Religion, and there he ſecurely
weathers out the ſtorm, and all becomes quick-
ly ſerene and calm again.

Bur after all that is or can be ſaid, allowance
muſt ſtill be made for an unhappy temper of Bo-
dy: for. it muſt bz remembred that Religion is
a Medicine for the Soul or Mind, and not for
Bodily Diſeaſes. You know the intimate corre.
ſpondence and quick ſympathy between thoſe
two Inmates, Soul and Body, which is ſuch,
that like Hippocrates's Twins, they mutually af-
fe one another, ſo that one of them cannot
well enjoy it ſelf, if the other be in diſorder.
Do but conſider how exceeding difficult it is to
maintain the rate of a Man's common converſa-
tion, and eſpecially to bear up to any meaſure
of brisk airyneſs, when the body is but a little
ſickly and diſcompoſed. And then how can you
imagine but that there will be an unevenneſs of
temper ina melancholy Man's deportment, not-
withſtanding that the comforts of Religion
ſhould be as ſolid and ſtable as I have repreſen-
ted them to be ?

Bioph. But by your leave, Sir, I underſtood
you that there was ſuch a Catholick and Para-
mount Antidote of all ſorrow to be found it
Religion, that your pious Man could never have
been ſad any more (like the Chimzra of a ou

—*-

36 A Winter-Evening Part III.

Man amongſt the Stoicks) neither outward Ac-
cidents could diſcompoſe him, nor bodily Infir-
mities interrupt his .tranquility and. ſelf-enjoy-
ments. |
| Sebaſt. Sure, Biophilus, you did not think I
. took every good Man to be.
Theunhappy influ- come a God Almighty, or the
reg Fa — powers of Religion to be ſo
Mind. omnipotent, as that becauſe
they can recreate a Man's
Spirits, they ſhould therefore alſo make him
intirely another Creature. You might as well
imagine I afferted that this ſpiritual Remedy
ſhould preſerve Men from dying, as from being
ſick or melancholy, when their conſtitution is
Tone to it. For although by reaſon of the near
elation between Soul and Body. (as I faid be-
fore) it is not to be doubted, but that the com-
forts of the Mind; upon. account of Religion,
may, in a good meaſure, chear the bodily Spt-
rits, yet, on the other (ide, it is to be expected
that the Body will have its influence recipro-
cally ; and when it is infirm, will deprefs and
clog the Mind that it ſhall be ſure to be ſenſible
of the burthen and be able to move the leſs
briskly in its courſe. In ſhort, the buſineſs be-
tween . the Soul and Body ſtands thus; name-
ly, as, on the one hand, the Body can
affet the Mind fo far as to retard its motion,
and check its flight.; but nat fo .as altogether
to oppoſe and hinder them: fo, on the other
hand, the Mind. ( if that be comfortable) com-
forts and refreſhes the bodily Spirits, but is not
ableentirely toalter them : For Temper will be
Temper, and Melancholy will be Melancholy
ſtill, "7, o_

Part IT. Conference. 37

That therefore which I afſert and have hi-
therto endeavoured to prove, and that. which
the common experience of Pious Men atteſts,
1S no more but this, That there-are never-fail-
ing Springs of Conſolation in Religion, pro-
vided the ifſues of them be not obſtructed by
ſome or other of the aforeſaid occaſions.

Phil. T know, Sebaſtian, you have well con-
ſidered all that which you have ſaid, and I thank*
God I have ſome experience of the truth of it
for the moſt part; and therefore have reaſon to
rely upon your judgment for the reſt, But yet
there is one thing runs in my thoughts, concern-
ing which I would gladly ask your opinion, if
I do not unſeaſonably interrupt your diſcourſe
with Brophils,

Sebaſt. You will not interrupt me Ph:/ander,
for I was at a full period; or if it was other-
wiſe, we would make a Parentheſis for your ſa-
tisfaction : W hat is it therefore wherein I can
ſerve you?

Phil. The matter, in ſhort then, is this: I
have obſerved ſeveral Divines, amongſt the
cauſes of perplexity and uncomfortableneſs of
g00d Men, to reckon one, of 'which you have
hitherto taken no notice; namely, the caſe of
Deſertion, which they define to be, *© When
« God withdraws himſelf ar-

* bitrarily from ſuch perſons - So—_
* for a time, and hides his 4.2.7 kn
* Face from them upon the concerning God's
&« ſole account of his Preroga- aeſerting of geod
« tive, or for ſome reaſon beſt
** known to himſelf, but without the leaſt guilt
* or provocation on their parts, Now if this
be

3$ A Winter-Evening Part ITE

be true, it may then not onely happen that the
very beſt, andalſo the moſt ſanguine and chear-
full Men naturally, may be very uncomfortable ;
but the very ſtate of Spiritual comfort will be
very uncertain and fluctuating: and, which is
worſt of all, there will be a diſeaſe without a
Remedy, a Caſe that admits of no Conſolation.
For what can all Counſels and diſcourſes, or
all the Exerciſes of Faith or Reaſonavailagainſt
a Peremptory Act of God ?
| Sebaſt. Tt is very true, Philander, as you ob-
ſerve, there hath been ſuch a Notion broached,
and the effe&ts and conſequences have been bad
enough; For belides what you have well alledg-
ed, under the pretence hereof,
The afar ſome have been fo abuſed as to
Sow. of #4? 0: jndulge their own humour ,
and, as Fonas ſaid, be did well
fo be angry, ſo they fanſie, they ought to be me-
lancholy, when God (as they imagine) ſets
himſelf againſt them, and they thereby are tem-
pted to think hardly of the Divine Majeſty, as
if he was a great Tyrant who took pleaſure in
the complaints of his Creatures; and which is
worſe than that (if worſe can be) ſometimes
evil Men get this Notion by the end, and then
whenſoever their wicked lives render their con-
fcjences uneaſie to them, they preſently conceit
it may be only the withdrawing of the Divine
Favour from them, and how can they help it,
_ it is the Caſe of good men to be ſo dealt
with ?

But what ground there is
for all this I cannot imagine.
It is true, we ought not to dil-

' pute

The groundleſne{;
of the aforeſaid O-
pinion.

Part III. Conference. ”

pute the Divine Prerogative, or what he may
do if he pleaſes. For we find it dangerous to
take upon us to limit the Prerogative of earth-
ly Princes; and if they may have reaſons for ſuch
things as we do not underſtand, much more
hath God, whoſe wiſdom is infinite and unſearch=«
able: therefore not to define what God may or
may not do,it is plain that there is no foundation
in Holy Scripture (which is the Declaration of
his Will) to think he will take ſuch a courſe as
this caſe ſuppoſes; and beſides, it ſeems incon-
ſiſtent with his ſincerity and goodneſs, and can
by no means be reconciled with that ſettled and
immovable delight he declares himſelf to take in
good Men, that he ſhould play faſt and looſe
with them, or (as ſome have rudely expreſfs'd
it) play at bo-peep with his Children,

No, Philander, affure your ſelf, infinite Good-
neſs will not diſguiſe it ſelf, and put on a fright-
full Vizard merely to ſcare his weak and timo-
rous Children; ſo far from it, that contrariwiſe
ſo long as Men continue Conſtant, Loyal and
Dutifull towards him, he will be unchangeable
in his favour, and conſtantly ſhine out upon
them in the bright beams of love and kindneſs,
And if it ſhall happen that (as I granted to B:«-
philws) the melancholy of Men's Conſtitution
ſhall riſe up in ſuch black fumes, as not onely
to cloud their Minds, but that (conſequently
thereof) they may entertain diſmal Apprehen-
ſions of him; yet againſt all this he is ready to
believe them by his Providence, and to afliſt and
comfort them by his Holy Spirit, if he be de-
voutly applied to : but to be ſure he will never
cxaſperate the condition of a ſincerely good Man

by

40 A Winter-Evenms Part Ill.

by any unprovoked att of his own. . He hath
told us, He will not break a bruiſed reed, nor
quench ſmoaking flax, Matth. 12.20. And that,
if men draw nigh to him, he will draw nigh to
them, James 4. 8. and he neither needs it, nor
is inclined to try experiments upon poor melan-
choly Men. Let us have a care therefore of
charging the effe&ts of our own changeable hu-
mour (either of Body or Mind) upon the un-
changeable God. For fo long as we walk by
the Light of his Word, we may live under by
the Light of his Countenance, if (at leaſt) our
own Melancholy interpoſe not, and eclipſe it
to us : and (bateingoutward troubles) We may,
upon thoſe terms, ina good meaſure enjoy Hea-
ven upon Earth; we may be as bold as Lions, as
chearfull as Angels, in a word, as full of joy as
our Heartscan hold: For the Principles of Re-
ligion will beat all this out, and God will never
interrupt the efficacy of them.

Fhil. Oh Blefled! For ever bleſſed be the Di-
vine Goodneſs, and God's Blefling on your
Heart, Sebaſtian, for the good report and afſu-
rance you have givenus of it. And now, Friends,

why ſhould not we be very

An Holy Triumph good, that we may be thus
preg 11 1d comfortable? And why ſhould
Religins we not be comfortable if we be
ood ? Why ſhould the Jolly

Fellows out-do us, whoſe Hearts are filled with
Froth, and their Heads with Steam, and we
that if we be as we pretend to be) have God,
and Conſcience, and Heaven on our ſides, hang
down our Heads and Hands, and by fo doing
reproach our God, our Religion, andour ſelves
too ? Have

Part II. Conference. 41

Have not we ſuch Notions of a God, as ren-
der him a juſt and a faithful Creator, a wiſe and
benign Beiog, that is tender of, and exorable
towards his Creatures: How then can we chuſe
but love him, and delight in him ?

Hath not his Divine Majeſty made his mind
ſo well known to us, that we cannot be to ſeek
what will pleaſe him, but may go on chearfully
in the courſe of our Duty without Diftruſt or
Scruple? And:can we doubt his conſtancy to
himſelf, and to that Declaration he hath made
of his Will, that we ſhould ſuſpect the end if
we uſe the: means ; fince we may read our own
deſtiny-before hand, and anticipate the Sentence
of the great Day of Judgment ? Are not all his
Laws/ſo juſt ws rational,. that they agree with
the yery ſence of our own Mind, fo that hz Ser-
vice'ts per fett Freedom ?- Foraſmuch us ih @'very
proper ſence we'are governed by our own Laws,
thoſe of. the Goſpel being enaCted in'our own
Cotiſcjences, '

"And are we' not. ſatisfied that we ſhall be ſo
far”'from loſing our labour in Religion, that we
have the fulleſt aſſurance (ſuch a thing is capa-
ble of) that in reward of faithfull ſerving God
inthis Life, we ſhall after Death be raiſed up
again,and live for ever and ever with him in his
Kingdom of Heaven? Surely all this together is
ſufficient to make us fervent and hearty inthe ex-
erciſe of Religion, and-comfortable in our Spi-
rits when we have 1o done.

'Sebaſt. Bravely reſolved, Philander, this pace
(if you hold it) -will bring you to Urania pre-
katly; - But 1 will bear you company if I can ;
and therefore | add to- a you have aid, why

ſhould
I

42 A Winter-Evening Part HE

ſhould we be afraid to be alone, or in-the dark,
ſince we believe God is every. where, and in the
greateſt ſolitude will afford, us the comfortable
effets of his Preſence and Providence?- or why
ſhould we beunder dyeadfull apprehenſions ofthe
power and malicious enterprigs of evil, Spirits
upon us, freing we are convinged- that. greater, 1s
be that. is with us, than hectbat. is n.the. Warid.?

Why thopld we be dejected, at worldly lofles,
or.miſcarriages in our temporalaſiajrs, when; we
know thay in Heaven, we have a mere induring Sub-
W hy, ſhopld we be diſmay'd;at- the inflittion
of. any Pajnor Forture-ypon our Bodies, either
by the Hand gf God in.a, violent diſeaſe, -or by
the couelty of men that hate : and perſecute ys:
fince-God: hath.;promjſed; rhat ng:temptationybell.
overtake ug, but whot we:ſhall be abie to.brer:? that
is, . hg_bath.cag,, and will eithes-aþate- the,-tors..
ments, or ſupport ys-under:theme.> |:

Ina word, What need we be afraid of death -
it, elig face -2t; carpet! half the; Soul, and; is. no
more-but only.aj dark; paſlage to.a: Kingdom; of
light.and glory —

Bzaph, You'talk bravely, Gentlemen, but I
pratelt Fam amazed at yqu:, for to;this: very, day;
I never logked ypan; Religion as, any other.than
an auſfere-and-melancholy.courke of life, and the;:
molt ungefipable thing in; thewhole Warld:

-Þhil, For, Gad's fake then Biophilus, what:
is comfortable, if Religion, be melancholy 2: Is.
the: Warld fe verycomfortable; when, youknow
it.is, full-af-ngthing.but care and, fally, vexatiqn
and, diſappointment ? Is - Sin ſp. comfortable,
which (ater-the Commiſſian af\ it) perpenally

Hd »

Patt IMy. Conference. 4}

dopgs a Man with guilt, and LS
ordinarily blemiſhes tis Credit, 4f Ret:g/on be tor
diſorders his Fortunes; impairs conforr able mebing

n | iz, and Mankind «
his Health, and cows and de- a ſad and deplora-
baſes his Spirit ? Or is Death 57 Creature.

{5 comfortable a thirig, which
repreſents'to'a Man nothing but an horrible pit
of- Darkneſs, and the Land of Oblivion.

What (1 ay): then; can be eormfortable, if
that be'not ſo, which is the only remedy againſt
#1 the former 2 for it is plain, that nothing but
the hopes of another and better World at laſt
edn enable a Man to'enjoy himRIf tolerably in
this'preſetit : Nothing but living vertuouſly fof
the time to come, can repair the miſchief of (ins
formerly committed: and nothing but Eternal
Eife is a ſufficiett atitidote againſt the fears of
Death: and” all theſt are the effets and bene-
fits of Religion. Therefore if this be uncom-
fortable, Marikind muft' needs be the moſt de-
ptorably urihappy kind of Being in the whole
World. For thongh- other Creatures' ate in
fome-ſort fellow-ſufferers'in the common Cala-
mity- of this World ; yet beſides thattheir ſhare
i5ordinarily'not ſo great as his, it is evident that
they fear nothing: for the future, but only feel
—_— evil, and they have no reſtraint” up-
or them from what they deſire, nor no remorſe
tor what they have done ; therefore if Mankind
have not the glory of his Conſcience' when' he
doth well, to ſet againſt the checks and girds of
when he doth amiſs; and if he havenot hopes
to-counter-batance- his fears, anda reward here-
after for his ſelf-denial-at preſent, his coridition
is far the worſt of any Creature in the World,

D 2 There-

o

44 A Winter-Evening Part IIE.

Therefore, as I ſaid, Religion is his peculiar
concern, and lingular advantage, as that which
only can repair all his misfortunes.

Sebaſt, But I pray, Bzophilus, what do you
apprehend in Reiigion that can make it look fo
melancholy to you? Is zs becauſe it ſets a God
before you, than which nothing can be more
defirable ? for God 2s love, is rich in goodneſs, nay
goodneſs it ſelf; infomuch, that it it were poſ-
fible any thing in the Univerſe ſhould be more
good than he, that would be God: He made
Man, preſerves him, loves him, delights in him,
deſigns him -to live eternally with himſfelf.. In
a word, all imaginable comfort is ſo wrapp'd
up in this ong word, God, that I remember-a

brave Heathen ſaid, He would
M. Antoninus. 70t be willing. to live a day int
the World, if he thought there

was not 4 God in it.

It may be, you will ſay, this God is Juſt and
Holy, and jealous of his Honour, and will re-
venge. himſelf upon ſtubborn and incorrigible

| "Sinners; all this is true, but

The great truths "what need you be one of thoſe
y id fmt Bp! that provoke him; and then,
puration of wichm- IDE Juiter and holier, he is, the
fartableneſe. + better and more comfortable it
Eos is for you; or if you have-of-
fended him. heretgfore, yet if you repent and
turn to him, he is ſo cxorable and pitifull, that
no tender parent hath more yearning Bowels, or

more open Arms, to receive his Prodigal and

loit Son returning home to him, than God hath
towards penirent Sihners.

Will

Part III. Conference. 45

Will you objett the ſelf-denials required by
Religion, as that a Man muſt reſtrain himſelf
for God's ſake of many things that are pleaſant
to Fleſh and Blood ?: It is true there are ſuch
things required, but they are not ſo many as
that a Man may not live very pleaſantly -not-
withſtanding; and if they were more than they
are, who would not comply with them to ob-
tain the favour of ſuch a God, and to gain E-
ternal Life upon thoſe terms 2?

I am ſure you cannot objet&t againſt the dire
and poſitive duties of Religion, ſuch as Prayers
and Praiſes to God, reading and meditating on
his Word, or AQts of Beneficence and Charity
towards Mankind ; for there is nothing more
pleaſant and entertaining, nothing more delici-
ous than theſe, if they be rightly underſtood.
So that in ſhort, it is no better than a mere
ſlander to call Religion uncomfortable, and ſuch
as could proceed from nothing but the Devil
himſelf; or if from Men, it muſt be ſuch as had
never tried it, nor were reſolved ever to do fo.

Bioph. You muſt pardon me, Gentlemen, I
tell you plainly I never felt any of theſe Com-
forts of Religion which you ſpeak of.

Phil. I, there's the buſineſs, now you have
ſaid all, here lies the bottom of all the ſcanda-
lous reports of Religion, as if it was a ſowre,
melancholy thing. Try it, Biephilus, and you
will quickly confute your ſelf, experience will
do itfor you; you uſed to ſay, Seeing is believ-
ing ; now, in God's Name, make experiment,
Taſte and ſee how good the Lord 1s; and let me
tell you this for your incouragement, there were
peyer yet any who effeftually made the experi-

2 ment

46 A Winter-Evening Part Ill.

went and were diſappointed. A great man
who ſlighted Religion for a great while, at lak
have become fenſtble of their folly, and made
their refuge in it ; bur it is very rare, and next
to impeſlible, to find any who in carneſt applied
themſelves to jt, that ever apoſtatized from it,
er pretended they were difappointed of Comfort
411 1f. |
Rioph. But. for God's ſake, what do you mean
by trying? What would you have me do? IT
fhauld be very glad to live comfortably.
Fhil. By trying, we mean no more but this :
Youmuſtapply your ſelf in ear-
The trye wethed neſt to the knowledge and pra-
FM Þs roof Re ice of Religion, the very firſt
roving #5 ſtep to which isgravity and ſe-
wet riouſneſs of Spirit. It was, I
remember, the ſhort and weighty Counſel of
the Great Hugo Grotivs, when he lay on his
Death Bed, to ſore about him, who asked his
advice, Be ferioxs, ſajd he, and your work is
half done: leave off tricks of wit and captious
Eyafions ; do not pleaſe your ſelf in a trifling
etonce to extraordinary ſagacity in findin
ta in ſo weighty aconcern as this we ſpeak of?
but be willing to believe, and then (as I faid)
reſolve to live up to the convictions of your
Conſcience, and you will, in due time, find the
comfort of fo doing.
' You do not expect to feel the warmth of the
Fire, this cold Seaſon, unleſs you draw near te
.1t,-and continue: by it; no-more reaſonably can
you expect to. feel the Comforts of Religion,
24} you have embraced the Dodrines, and at
leati begun to live by the Jaws of it : but when
STO hr Jos

Part III. Conference, 47

you have ſo done, from thenceforth you will be-
in to be ſenhble of what we have diſcourſed,
and wm ops ny your progrels, ſuch will be the
proportion of your comfort, and perſevering in
your courſe you will every day find your ſelf
drawing nearer and nearer to Heaven ; is it not
fo, Sebaſtian ?

Sebaſt. True to a tittle, Philander, and ſo you,
Biophilus, will find it, if you (4s 1 hope you
Will) make the experiment; for though (as our
good Friend here hath well obſerved ) the
joys of Bales come in gradually, and not all
at once ; yet, like the riſing Sun, they are al.
ways growing higher and higher tod perfe&t Day
of Glory, and (therein unlike to that) never
more ſetting or ſhutting in upon us in a total
darkneſs agaih ; as ſoon as you ſet your Fare to-
watds Heaven, and begin to live conſcieticiouſ-
ly, you ſhall find yout mind eaſie, ahd your Spi-
Tits cheared with an admirable ſerenity; and
when in conſequence of ſuch beginning, you
worſhip God devoutly, you will find a cotrifort
in his Preſence, and a ſweet ſenſe of him when
you have finiſhed your duty; thence you iwill
proceed to feel a motion of bravery in your mind
to reſiſt all kind of ſin, and that will be follow.
ed with an unſpeakable Pleaſure and Glory in
Viftory over your Paſſions and cortupt Incli-
nations ; and thence forward Religion will grow
eafie and delightfull to you, and you ſhall he a-
ble to look towards the other World with hope
and defire ; and then finally the Holy Spirit will
come into your Soul, and ſeal you to the day of
Redemption, and give you ſuch a reliſh of the
Glories above, that you ſhall deſpiſe the preſeft

D 4 World,

48 A Winter Evenms Part IIL

World, and be able to look through the dark
Vault of Death, and take a view of Heaven.

Bioph. Whatever the matter is, you two are
able to raviſh any Man's Heart with this Diſ-
courſe, I am ſure you have filled me with ad-
miration, you have aſtoniſhed me. But I pray
what Religion muſt a Man be of, thathe may
make this experiment ?

Sebaſt. Nay, ſure enough it muſt be the Old

' Religion, or you will lofe your
So _ Religion 1abour. All Newfangles are
po: per 4m wap mere cheats; they may ſerve
Men to talk of, and make a
noiſe with in the World, but they will never
afford ſound comfort in a Man's need: fo tar
from it, that they diſtratt a Man with Novelty,
and fill his Head with endleſs ſcrupuloſity. The
way to Peace of Conſcience, and Spiritual Joy,
is not to be of ſach an Opinion, Seft, or Par-
ty, or to be-zealous of ſuch a Mode or Cere-
mony ; but to have a firm Faith in God, tolive
an Holy and Devout Life, this is the Old Reli-
gion, truly ſo called, for it is as old as Goſpel
it ſelf, and conſequently is the tried way to ſolid
Conſolation. But I pray, upon this occaſion,
give me leave to ask you a bold Queſtion, What
Religion are you ofat preſent?

Bioph. It 1s a free Queſtion, I confeſs; but,
(knowing whom I am amongſt) I will give
you as free an Anſwer: truly Sebaſtian, I am
of no Religion, at all, that I know of, unleſs
you make me to beof one.

Phil Then T1 do not wonder that you are
ſuch a Stranger to the comforts of Religion, for
it ſeems all was Romance to you (as you call
Wot "Wo 3.4. þ dj "hs . it

Part INI, Conference. 49

it) bytT hope, however, you do not look up-
on it as a modiſh Qualification, and a piece
of Gallantry to be without Religion ; take
heed of that, good Biophilus, for God will not
be mocked.

Bioph. You ſee I do not, Philander, but T
know, on the other fide, you would not have me
diſſemble, and play the Hypocrite neither ; and
therefore I have told you the very truth.

Phil. You do very well in both thoſe particu-
lars, but it's pity you ſhould not find out a mid-
dle berween Scepticiſm and Hypocriſie, which
you have now a fair opportunity to do ; being
in the company of Sebaſtian, if you pleaſe to
make uſe of it.

Sebaſt. In earneſt, Biophilzs, you are one of
the ſtrangeſt Men in the World, if this be true
which you ſay of your ſelf; I pray give me
leave to enquire how you came
fo be in this condition? I am Several occaſions
confident you have not drown- of oy veing irve-
ed your Religion in drink, (as
ſome have done) for I take you to be a wiſer Man,
and more carefull of your Life and Health ;
and I am as confident that you have not care.
leſly loſt it in your Travels in Foreign Countries,
as ſome young Gentlemen have done : What
then ! Hath the Hypocriſie of ſome high Preten.
ders (who either ridiculouſly over-atting their
parts, or lewdly proſtituting Religion to baſe
and villainous deſigns) made you aſhamed of it?
or {which hath been very common in this Age)
have you run a wild round through all Opinions,
till at laſt, being come about to the very Point
you ſet out from, yo01 thenceforth —_—_
ETE Ss Jo OY | with

5O A Wintey- Evening Part NM.

with your ſelf according to the Proverb, As,good
never a whit, as never the better !

Bioph. You are very ingenious in your gueſſes,
Sebaſtian, but all in vain; for you can never find
what was never loſt, nor can I have loſt what I
never had. I tell you again, I neither have,
nor ever had any Religion that IT know of.

Phil. You might well have ſpared thoſe laſt
words, Biophilas; for I will undertake for you,
you have no Religion indeed, if you do not know
of it. Religion is not like a Diſeaſe, to be
catch'd before we are aware, nor can it be im-
poſed upon us without our conſent and privity :
belides, it is fo ative and vigorous a Principle,
that it will diſcover it ſelf, and a Man may as
well carry Fire in his Boſom, and not be burnt,
25 carry Religion in his Heart, and not be fen-
ſible of it.

Sebaſt. You mightily increaſe my wonder ; I
am at a loſs how this could come to paſs : did
you grow, like a Muſhrome, out of the Earth?
Or what was the manner of your Education 2

Bioph, My Birth, Sebaſtian,

17 Education. Was, 1 ſuppoſe, like other

Mens, but, perhaps, my Breed-
ing might have ſomething peculiar in it. For a-
mongſt other things, that happened to me, it
fc!t out that one of thoſe Perſons, who ſhould
eſpecially have taken care of my Inſtitution. be-
ing a great Fanatick, was ſtrongly of the Opi-
nion, that the Spirit of God [as his Phraſe was)
muſt immediately, and by himſelf, effett all the
good that is in any Man; and therefore he con-
cluded it would not only be loft labour, but a
Derogation from the Grace of God, to make
| | | 7% IN =

Part III. Conference. 54

uſe of any means, or to be much concerned a-
bout my Education. And then for the reſt of
them to whom I was committed in my minori-
ty, they were great Politicians, and pretended
they ſhould conſult my Intereſt moſt by keeping
me diſ-ingaged from any Party in Religion, that
I might be always at liberty to joyn my ſelf
wich that which ſhould prove moſt to my tempo-
ral advantage.

Philan. Shrewdly projetted on both parts, in-
ſomuch that it is hard to ſay whether the Divi-
nity of the former, or the Politicks of the lat-
ter be the more wonderfull.

Sebaft. Here was a beginning bad enough, I
confeſs, but then when you grew a Man, and
became at your own diſpoſe, what kept you un-
refolv'd in this great Afffair ?

Bioph. For that, I muſt tell you, that my
ſetting out in the World fell about the late times
of publick DiſtraCttion , and then I obſerved
there were ſo many Religions, that it was not
eafie to reſolve which to chuſe, and upon that
account I continued Neuter ſtil],

Sebaft. Nay, Biophilus, there you were want-
ing to your ſelf, as much as your Guardians had
been wanting to you before; for the more Dif-
putes concerning Religion there are in the
World, it is far the greater probability that
there is at leaſt ſome penerai truth amongfi
them, though many of the particulars muſt
needs be miftaken : befides, if you had confide-
red that matter diligently, you would have found
that few, or none of thoſe diſputes were abour
the Fundamentals of Religion, but only about
certain Notions, or Modes and Forms, and you

, might

52 A Winter-Evenins Part III.

might have abſtratted from them, and been a
cood Chriſtian nevertheleſs.

Boph. It may be fo, and, I confeſs, I had
ſometimes ſuch thoughts, but then whenever I
began to look that way, there were thoſe brisk
young Men about me, that, cbſerving me to

grow a little ſerious, would

Ill Company be- preach to me at this rate ;
<4 men # Athe- What, Biophilws, do you grow
ei weary of your Liberty? Do
you not know there are bonds in Religion, as
well as in Matrimony? Are you not aware how
it reſtrains the Plcaſures of Life, and damps all
jollity2 if once you let looſe that thing call 'd
Conſcience, it will coſt you a great deal of Art
and Pains to hamper it again, and ſubdue it to
your Intereſts. Do but obſerve (ſay they) that
whenſoever any Man comes under the power of
Religion, it abates his Courage and Bravery, and
renders him tame and ſheepiſh, liable to be af-
fronted by every body. In a word, faid they,
all that which they call the fear of God, and con-
cern for another World, is nothing but either
the effet of Ignorance, Pedantry, or Hypocri-
fie; but to make our ſelves merry with both, is
true Wit and Gallantry.

Phil. Lord, what pity it is that ſuch Men as
you ſpeak of were not condemned to wear Fools
Coats, or that they have not ſome mark ſet up-
on them, that Men might avoid them as Le-
pers, or Men infected with ſome.ſuch loathſome
and contagious Diſeaſe. I pray, Sir, what Q-
pinion had you of that fort of Men and the
preachments they made ?

Biops.

5 £AYT | —— A »> Grmrmm—_—s " 6 "i g—=y A

Part III. Conference. 53

Bioph. Totell you thetruth,

I had not much better conceit ._.- ne ant
of them my ſelf , than you 4, 7 ——_
have; for though they pretend

to Wit, yet it is little more than impudence and
ſcurrility;z-and, beſides that, they are rude to-
wards the moſt general perſwaſion of Mankind;
I obſerve withall, that the greateſt talkers, at
that rate, are commonly Men that not only pro-
ſitute their Reputation, but ſquander away their
Eſtate, their Health and Lives alſo with ſuch
incogitancy and prodigious folly, that I can by
no means think their Judgment is to be relied
upon in any ſerious matter; yet I muſt needs
fay ſomething ſtuck with me by the frequent Ha-
rangues and Converſation of ſuch Men. |

Phil. 1 am in great hopes of you, Bzophilas,
that you will come over to us, now you betray
the ſecrets of Atheiſm. You have revealed the
very Myſtery of Iniquity ; tis liberty to be lewd
and wicked , and perfect licentiouſhneſs that is
the ſecret root and cauſe of Atheiſm, and Men
of a proflizate ſenſe and debauched tempers, are
the principal Advocates for it, and the ſworn E-
nemies to Religion, as indeed they are to every
thing that is ſerious.

Sebaſt. Biophilus ſpeaks like a Man of ſence
and ingenuity, and give me leave to ſay, Sir, I
cannot tell whether I ought more to applaud the
fagacity of. your mind, or to deplore the unhap-
pineſs of your Education and Acquaintance; it
s a thouſand pities the former ſhould lie under
the fatal prejudices of the latter. And I ſhould
account nothing to have befallen me in my whole
Life more- lucky or deſirable, than an opporru-

nity

$4 A Winter-Evenig Part Ill:
nity of reſcuing ſuctv @ temper from ſuch a ca-
ſmity. But, I pray, with: the fame ingenuity
you have hitherto: expref$'d, telll me; have' yow
gone away currantly: with this tncurtouſheſs or
unconrcernedneſs; for Retigion!? have you not
ſametimes had: conftidts: within. your ſelf upon
pong” "ea A
| I Bioph. F confeſs Fhave ; for
The irrevgiou ſhmetimes,. whenas F could
may 7 26% not buvobferve;this bufneks of
; Religion tobethe great Theme
off the World, I\nean ts be that! which the'ge-
tterality of Mankind are- very! buſie ard ſollid.
tous about (for F car call to-mind but very few
wha have'not ini ſome fort or othet 'prettridled to!
it ) and I. trke-nvtice'alſd;; that. nivſt of the
ſharpeſt'diſputes ant: hotteſt-conteſtsars raiſed a-
bonrcit ;. furehpthen! (thought F)- theſe Men-are
ig: carnelt;. and\believe thetnſelves in this affair,
abd- then why! (hoald E make the adventure's-
lene? it imay!/berome mein pruderice! ty-have
ſome. concerm:abont: it. too: - eſpecrally when'P
confideredamd faw'plainiprhar by tis” courſe of
al} the: World! 1: muſt ſhortly die ;- and! foraf-
much as it: was'impoſſible-for me'ts-be' certain
what might or might not come afterwards; ati
whan' ſtrange Revolutions-mightiſiceeed* my go-
ibg. aft the: Stage! of this. World; within the
campab of thatvaſt!tra&t of tifttie' which -Þ'was
likely;toJeaverbetrind me; Herenpon methougtit'
$i became! m©in. diſcretion to- provide 'for' the
worſt, To all: which: I awuſtadd; That'F have
as! foverabtimes had' unaccountableiqualinis” and
miſgivings: of: Heart: (upon ſome 'of) the! fore:
going-Conſideravions, or ſomething: of! —
ture

— w— =. —— ow — —_—= —— —_——

Part III. Conference. $5:

tyre) which not a, little ſtartled me for the pre-
ſeat; but then I endeavoured to check them as
the effetts of. Melancholy and mere Panick
Fears, notwithſtanding, in ſpight of my Heart,
they, would return upon, me, and gave me ſuf.
picion that, they might have: ſome other ground:
than I was awaze of.

Sebaſh. Walk, and would not theſe things
prevail. upon. you to lay afide your neutrality,
and determine you to. a, ſerious Conſideration, of,
Religion. ?

Bioph. No truly, they did, not, for I had'@-
ther thoughts.came into my mind, which ſeem».
ed, to counter-balance the former, and. brought:
me: to an 4qui/ibrium, or. to hang, in ſich. a
ſyſpence as,you. now find, me, in; for I ſuſpected}
my ſuſpicions, and fell in doubt whether thoſe
odd. kind of badings and- prefages of my own.
Mind, which: I: told, you of, concerning Gad-
ang, a-fugure State, might-not proceed: from-the
mere weakneſs, and timidity-of Humane Natynre,
or from Ignorance, Melancholy, or natural Su-
perſtition , without any juſt and reaſonable
Foundation. And then as; for thoſe apprehen=
ſions of Religion,, which: F obſerved: to be genes
rally, in qther Men, IL therein ſuſpeted the Arts
of, cunning. Men; and State-Politicians, who
mjght,poſſibly have deſigns. to.over-reach; others
into- thoſe, Perſivaſions which they, had no- ſenſe.
of themſelves, Upon: ſuch Conſiderations: as,
theſe, I was | inclined on. the other fide, not to;
give my ſelf any trouble about; that which:
ſemed/ſdidark and-uncertain.

Sebaſt:; b

56 A Winter Eveniny Part Ill.

Sebaſt, T pity you with all

Devotion towards my Heart, Brophilus, and yet

effett of Ignorance, —
* my pity, that a Man of your
A _ mrs ſhould be ſtaggered by
hath real and ra- ſuch groundleſs Phancies ; and
gienal grounds. withall, I cannot but hope
that your ſecond thoughts will
eaſily affoil you in this caſe. For in' the firſt
place, you cannot but have obſerved that many
of the ſhrewdeſt Men in the World, areas much
under an awfull ſenſe of Religion, as the moſt
calie and injudicious. Nay, ordinarily, the more
throughly learned and wiſe any Men are, the
more hearty'arid earneſt they are in this atfair.
From whence you cannot (without doing vio-
lence to your-diſcretion) but conclude, that Re-
ligion and Devotion are far from being the mere.

effects of ignorance and impoſture ; whatever
ſome ſhatter-brain'd and debauch'd © Perſons

would fain perſwade themſelves and others.

And then in the ſecond place, when you con-''
ſider that the moſt brave and courageous do as
well take ſanftuary in Religion, and imbrace it
as ardently as the moſt timorous and cowardly ;
you will have no more reaſon to impute the -
riſe of Piety to pulillanimity or ſuperſtitious
fears, than you had before to charge it upon
folly and ignorance, or the cheats of Politicians,
but muſt be forced to conclude this great buſi. '
nef6 to be more deeply founded, and to depend -
upon higher Cauſes.

Bioph. You ſay well, Sir, and I ſhould be apt-
to think ſo too, if I could learn what thoſe
higher Cauſes and deep Foundations are, which

you

Ged « neither the m1, wonder is almoſt equal to |

Part III. Conference. 57

you ſpeak of; arid herein I would gladly have
your advice, who (asI am perſwaded) have too
great a judgment to be led away with popular
errors, and (I am confident) whoſe integrity is
ſuch as will not ſuffer you to be acceſſary to the
impoſing upon me. Tell me thetefore, I be-
ſeech yan, into what real cauſes T ought to re-
ſolve; either thoſe private Impreſſions of Reli-
gion I have found in my ſelf, or thoſe more
publick effets of it, which I have obſerved in
others. |
Sebaſt. Play the Man, Buphilus, and judge
with your ſelf, into what cauſes ſhould you, or
can you reſolve ſuch effefts, but thoſe that are
as real and ſubſtantial as the effefts themſelves 2
namely, the plain reaſonableneſs of that thing
(called Religion) approving it ſelf both to the
inward ſenſe of your own mind, and to hu-
mane nature in general; that is to ſay, there is
firſt 4 natural impreſs of Religion, which God
hath left upon the Conſciences of Men, which
fs, as it were, the intetnal fenſe of the Soul :
and then when reaſon reflects alſo upon this bu-
fines, humane judgment prudentially weighing
and eſtimating the reaſons for it, and the Ob-
jections againſt it, together with the moment
and importance of the thing, pronounces it up-
on due Conſideration, to be the prime and moſt
neceſſary coricern of Mankind, —__
Bioph. But if you will. make me your Di-
fciple, I muſt intreat you to deal more expreſfsly,
and particularly with me, and to open to the
very bottom, the Foundations of the thing in
queſtion. And let me beg your pardon, it I
fell you that you are obſerved to be a Man of
E ſuch

58 A Winter -Evenmg Part III.

Tach Eloquence, that you are able to wheedle a
Man into your Opinion, be it what it can. But
pray deal plainly, and rationally with me, ſeeing
that otherwiſe if I ſhould become your Convert,
you will have but little credit by me, ſince, in
that caſe, my zeal would be without knowledge,
and my heat without light ; and, beſides (to
wiſer Men) you will but ſeem to beg the-Queſti-
on, and artificially to perſwade to that which
ou cannot prove. Therefore ( as I intimated
fore) pray make me to underſtand, that Reli-
gion 1s as reaſonable in it ſelf, and in its Princi-
ples, as you have repreſented it to be impor-

tant in the conſequences of it.
Sebaſt. I underſtand you , but I have gone
more than half way in that already; for having
ſhewed. you the conſequence of Religion to be
. (ach, as that a Man can neither live nor die
comfortably without it, there is therefore all the
reaſon in the World for it. For he that proves
a thing to, be necelfary, does more than prove it

_ME_REL:..,; -. |
Broph. That, wasa ſide blow, which 1 did not

expect, 1 confeſs. -

.- Seboft. But it is an home thruſt to the buſi-
neſs, it doth jugalum petere (as they ſay) for it
| | obliges you as you are a Man,
- th rm po 096 and pretend either to pru-
be riligiow. - . dence, or Selt-love, to apply
©... - .. - Jour ſelf ſeriouſly to. this affair;
nay, if there ſhould he wanting ſuch other
proofs as you require, you cannot reaſonably in-
. faſt upon that, for you will acknowledge that
felf- preſervation is the firſt and ſurelt principle
in Nature; and ſure that is good proof, which
proves

Patt III: Conference. - 55
proves that Man to be worſe than a Fool who
doth not follow it. |
Bioph. T hat is tiome indeed: But let me tell

jou, It is one of my greateſt prejudices againſt
Religion, that the moſt zealous Defenders of it
talk of probable Arguments, and prudential
Conſiderations, &c. Now, for my part, I re:
quire ratural and direct proofs, and nothing
eſs will ſatisfie me.

. Sebaſt, And, good Biopbilus, had you not
ſuch given you in our laſt Conference, and that
In the very point which you choſe to join ifſue
upon 2? pt
- Fioph. I muſt confeſs, in that one point, of
a judgment to come, you argued ſo ſhrewdly,
_ that ſomething of it ſticks by me tilt, but it

may be it was becauſe I granted ſorhe things
then for Civility fake, which I will not be held
to now; beſides, if you ſhould make out ſome
ſingle point, and not the reſt, T ſhall be never
the nearer : for it will but make a Diſpute and
Confuſion in my Mind, and will come to no
Ifſue:, foraſmuch as if all thoſe things that are
neceffary to the Being, and to the Obligationof

eligion, be not reſolved of, there can be no
ſuch thing as it. I deſire therefore now to ſee
your whole Hypotheſes laid together, and all the
grounds of it ſubſtantially made our. ro

Sebaſt. Why, that is done to my hand, and
ours too, Biophilus, and you may fave me the
abour, if you pleaſe, by confulting the incom-
parable Hugs Grotins, Biſhop Wilkins, or. ſeve-
ral, other excellent Perſons (whom 5 red on
name) who haye performed this with exquiſite
Erarning and ff anc go. if you have not
2 k

60 A Winter-Evening Part IIL

the Books by you, I will furniſh you with any
of them. | EESig

Bioph. T thank you for the Kind offer; but
with your leave, I will ſtick to my firſt Requeſt,

| that we may diſcuſs this mat-
| The advantageof ter between our ſelves ; both
Conference — becauſe in' this way of Confe-
n_— ,. rence you can explain yourſelf
ligion. to me more fully, if I ſhould

_ __notreach your meaning at firſt;
and beſides, I do not love that other Men ſhould
make my Anſwers or Objections for me, but had
father make them my ſelf, { as beſt knowing
where the Shooe pinches.)

Sebaſt. If you will have it fo, Tam content
to be at your ſervice to the uttermoſt of my pow-
er; but let me tell you by the way, thaf, though
I take offence at nothing, yet I a litfle wonder'd
at the caution you put in (even now) againſt
Eloquence; what did you mean, Brophilus ?
What was you afraid of 2 For my part, I can
pretend to no other Skill, than to render thoſs
things plain and eafie, that were before true and
reaſonable, or at moſt to be able to deliver hard
Arguments in ſoft words. Now, is an Argu-
ment ever the ſtronger for being crabbed and
rough ? Or the weaker, or teſs cffettual, for be-
ing ſmooth and oily 2 Is it ſuch a pleaſure to be
non-plusd in” Mood and Fignre, that you had
rather be ſnap'd in the Mouſe-trap of a Syllo-
giſn, than treated Socratically and gentilely ?
I promiſe you, I will uſe no Legerdemain, no
Slight of Hand with yon; or if I ſhould po a-
bout it, you are too ſagacious to be impoſed up-
on by me, If you lave'a phancy for ſcholaſtick
| -Gibberiſh;

Pare III. Conference. 61

Gibberiſh, and love to be cramp'd with an Ergo,
I am not altogether to ſeek in that way neither ;
but, if you give me leave, I would rather chuſe
that way of diſcourſing which we have held hi.
therto, as that which is leaſt apt to raiſe any
heat or paſſion, and which will the moſt plain-
Iy and naturally repreſent the truth of things to
you.

Bioph. Nay, marry, in ſuch a caſe as this, T
haye as little phancy for chopping of Logick, as
for the long wheedles of Rhetorick; I require
onely (as I faid) ſubſtantial proofs; and fo your
Arguments be ſtrong, I care not how ſoft and
ſilken the lines be. Go on therefore in your
own way, in God's name.

Sebaſt. T, that was well thought of indeed ;
for without God's Bleſſing we ſhall loſe all our la-
bour : which that we may not do, let us both
beg of him to guide our Minds in this affair, and
let me alſo requeſt of you, Bzophrlus, that you
will grant me theſe two. or three reaſonable
things, which are o very neceſſary to the ſuc-
ceſs of our debate, that I ſhall be able to calcu-
late the iflue of it, from your ingenuity in the
conceſſion of them.

Bioph. Without more words, what are your
demands ?

Sebaft. In the firſt place, 1 _
deſire that you will wholly lay ,, _ p — wag pr 0
aſide all Drollery, in the ma- pyj;gin
nagement of this cauſe, not
only becauſe the buſineſs we are upon (as I
hope you ſhall acknowledge by and by) is too
weighty and folemn to be lightly and tri-
flingly dealt withall ; bur eſpecially, becauſe this

bh E 3 wanton

61 A Winter-Evening Part III,

Agvinf wantm wanton trick of Drollery, is
mr qnd Prollery in the onely engine in the World
On AY: that can do miſchief to Reli-
gion. Reaſon, with all its batteries, can never
ſhake jt; Experience can never confute it ;
the greateſt ſhrewdneG and ſagacity can never
diſcover any flaws in it: but there is no fence q-
gainſt this flail of profane and ſcurrillous Drol..
ery, that, with its apith tricks and Buffoonry,
is able to render, not only the wiſeſt Man in the
World, but the moſt ſolid and ſubſtantial truth,
ridiculous, And therefore I have obſerved that
ſpeculative Atheiſts are commonly well gifted
this way; and the beſt of their Game is to put
off that with a Jeſt, which they can never an-
ſiyer with all the Wit they have. |

Bioph. "Tis granted; I will be very ſerious :
what would you more 2

Sebaſt. My next demand is, That you will
not doubt without cauſe, or ſome reaſon aſlign-
able of your doubting or denying any thing in
Religion : for beſides thatotherwiſe the humour

of doubting is endlefs and in-

Doubring with- finite, and a Man may at this
a" _ __ rate doubt and deny the things
jr, hrs; ſel me, that are moſt evident in nature,
thods of Atheiſts. and even the principles of Dif

courſe it felf, as well as of Re-
ligion ; befides this, I ſay, to doubt and deny
thus groundleſly and licentiouſly or peeviſhly, is
not ſo: much properly to doubt, as plainly ts
thew an unwillingneſs we have that the thing
we difpute about ſhould he true, w which i is COW-
ardly and difingenuous. = ,

There 5, certainly, A modeſty, or a kind of

gentile

Part III. Conference, 6 ;

gentile carriage due to all diſputes, eſpecially of
this nature as we are upon; and it is not allow-
able to be carping and captious, or to make uſe
of little tricks and ſhifts to evade and put off an
Argument inſtead of anſwering it. And let
me tell you, this I have obſerved to be the uſual
method of the Adverſfaries of Religion. They
will put a Man to prove every thing, even
the moſt ſelf evident Propoſition : and one que-
ſtion ſhall beget arother, and that other, only
to perplex the cauſe, and to ſtave off the con-
cluſion: or when a Man hath given very reaſo-
nable evidence of the point, they will yet put it
off with, It may be otherwiſe ; as it nothing
could be true, but what is impoſſible to be o-
therwiſe: which is as abſurd, as if when a Man
hath with the greateſt care and choice of his
Materials, and according to the beſt Rules of
ArchiteQture built an Houſe, he ſhould yet be a-
fraid to dwell in it when all is done, merely be-
cauſe you cannot prove it to be impoſſible but
that ſuch an Houſe may preſently fall and op.
preſs him in its Ruine. |
Bioph. Be ſecure of me in that point alſo, I
will diſcourſe fairly and ingenuouſly, and weigh
the force of your Arguments with the befbjudg-
ment I have: is that all you would have?
Sebaſt. There is but one thing more I would
ask, and indeed that is implied in what you
have yielded already ; but that we may not mi-
ſtake one another, I will mention it, viz. That
you will be willing to believe Religion, it you
ſee reaſon for It. | |
Bioph. That is not an ingenuous demand, Se-
Goſtian, if I underſtand py: for whilſt you ſeem
| 4 t2

64 A Winter-Evening Part III.

to ask my conſent, you plainly beg your cauſe;
whereas you are to prove it with that evidence,
as to make me believe it whether I will or no.
Gy Sebaſt, There it is now, that
— make makes the neceſſity of my de-
a man believe a-
gainſt his will, mand apparent: for it is A
mighty miltake, Bzophzlus, to
think that any Arguments whatſoever can be ſuf-
ficient to make a Man believe whether he will or
no. It is a great queſtion whether God Almighty
can make any Man believe againſt his will: in-
deed it ſeems a Contradiftion to ſuppoſe it. He
hath given Men Freedom of Will, and pat them
in the hand of their own counſel ; bid them make
their EleCtion, chuſe Life or Death : by which
means as wiſe and good Men have the Glory
and Comfort to co-operate towards their own
happineſs; fo perverſe and obſtinate Men have
the ſhame and remorſe of being guilty of their
own Deſtrution. For when both Parties have
light to guide them, and Motives and Argu-
ments to perſwade them, the one ingenuouſly
complies, but the. other wilfully refuſes, and
imploys the Prerogative of his nature, both a-
gainſt God; and his own Soul.

But in an humane way, it is plainly impoſſi-
ble: for if a Man have taken up his Poſt, which
he reſolves to maintain, it is not in the power
of reaſon to remove him from it; the Will is
immoveable by any thing bur it ſelf, and Rea-
ſon is no equal match for it. Now this is the
caſe of a great part of the Adverſaries to Religi-
on, and this is the main diſadvantage of its
cauſe, that ſuch Men have no mind it ſhould be
true; and then, nou perſuadebis etiamſs perſuaſe-

ris,

Part ITT. Conference. 65

ris, they will hold the Concluſion in ſpight of
the Premifles : and this is the reafon why I re-
quire of you to be willing to believe, before I be-
gin my Argument; not that I require youſhould
believe without proof, but that you ſhould not
oppoſe Prejudice tomy Argument, but betrue to
your reaſon and tothe evidence that ſhall be given.
Bioph If that be all you mean, *tis granted
alſo ; and now that you have done with your
Cautions, before you enter upon the buſineſs,
I muſt ask one thing of you, namely, That in
this Socratical way of diſcourſing (as you call
it) you will not be too prolix in your Arguments,
heaping one conſequence upon the neck of ano-
ther, till they make ſolong a train, that a Man
cannot ſee from end to end, but deal conciſely
and decretorily, that I may bebrought as com-
pendiouſly as may be to the pointyou drive at.
Sebaft. Indeed , Btophilrs ,
if I had thought of it, Tought Shorrneſc of reaſen
to have cautioned againſt that nd impatience of
very thing which you now de- pang. my c
mand: for this is another ca- fouk nedferriane
pital miſtake in thoſe Menthat of 4theifts, ©
are Strangers to theſe matters,
and which hath the fatal miſchief to confirm a
great many in Atheiſm, they expect to jump
into the full underſtanding of Religion preſent-
ly, whenſoever they makeit the ſubject of their
Diſcourſe ; and if it be not decided in one Syl-
logiſm or two, they immediately begin a tri-
umph, and conclude it is a thing cannot be
proved at all by reaſon. I confeſs to you that
God, in compaſſion to Mankind, hath diſcove-
red a ſhort cut over to the other World; I
} i thay | mean

66 A Winter-Evening Part IIT,

mean a very compendious way to a full know.
ledge of, and fatisfaftion in all the Myſteries of
Religion, and that is by the Holy Scripture, which
he deviſed on purpoſe, becauſe ſome Mens Ca.
pacities will not reach toa long Argument, and
the occaſions and buſie life of others will
not give them leiſure to attend the difficult and
laborious proceſs of reaſon. But becauſe you
reje(t that, and will not permit God Almighty
to judge for you, but will be your own judge in
the caſe ; therefore you muſt have patience in
this way of Probation you put me upon. For
if a Man will take nothing for current Coin,
but what he hath wrought out of the Ore him-
ſelf, nor believe any thing to be truth but what
he hath drawn out of the depth by his own
Skill and ſtrength, he muſt be content to take a
great deal of pains, and be at the expenſe of a
great deal of time, before he can arrive at Satiſ-
faction; however, I hope, you ſhall have no oc-
calion to accuſe me of tediouſneſs in this Argu-
ment,

Bioph. You ſpeak reaſon, I confeſs, and I
yield you this together with all your other Pre-
liminaries : Now therefore to the buſineſs.

Sebaft. Know then, Brophilus, (without any
farther Preface) that all this great Fabrick of
Religion ſtands upon theſe three Pillars, v1z,

Firſt, That there is a God,

The three Pillars as the Objet of Devotion
4 ke yt eb: and Religious Obſervance.

Is \» Secondly, That this God,

exerciſes a Providence over his

Creatures, and Mankind eſpecially ; and fo by

obſerving how they carry themſelves towards
| him,

Part III. Conferenee. 67

him, and conſequently being able to reward or
puniſhthem accordingly, lays an Obligation up.
on themto obſerve and worſhip him.

Thirdly, That Mankind is a Subject capable
of ſuch an Obligation, and of [Paying ſuch De,
yotion and Obſervance to the Deity.

Miſtake me not: I ſay, upon all theſe three
together in ConjunCttion doth the truth and re-
ality of Religion depend, but if any one of them
was wanting, it will be manifeſt that Religion
would vaniſh into a Romance, and come to no-
thing,

For in the firſt place, If there were no God,
it would not only be certain that there is no-
thing to whom Religion could be due, bur it
would be as certain that there could be no Pro.
vidence nor other Conſideration to inforce the
care of it ; and then conſequently let the Con-
ſitytion of Mankind be as capable of noble per.
formance as can be imagined, yet there could be
no ground nor foundation of Religion.

Again, If we ſhould acknowledge the Being
of a' God, and him alſo fit to be worſhipped ;
yet if there he no Providence, fo that this God
doth not mind whether Men ſerve or differve
him,andconſequently could not reward or puniſh
accordingly, though it might in thiscaſe be fan-
fied tobe a decent thing for all Creatures to pay
ſome kind of homage to ſo excellent a Being ;
yet there can be no danger to them if they do
not ſo, and conſequently no ſufficient obligati-
on upon them to perform it.

And laſtly, Ifthere be both a God and a Pro-
vidence acknowledged , and conſequently an
Obligation to Religion: yet if Mankind my
LF ty. 's Ig a ſub-

68 A Winter-Evening Part III.

a fubje%t capable of it; that is, if either he hath
It not in his power to know God's Will, or it
is not in his choice to ſerve or diflerve him, the
buſineſs of Religion cannot concern him, nor
can it be expected from him.

But if all theſe three things meet, and prove
certainly true, then is this buſineſs of Religion
fully founded, and as immoveable as the Foun-
dations of Heaven and Earth. For, as I ſaid,
the firſt Propoſition deſcribes the Object, the
third qualifies the Subjet, and the ſecond lays
the Qbligation of Religion, which is all that can
be required in the caſe.

Bioph, You begin very fhrewdly, I proteſt,
and like a Man that would do the buſineſs at
laſt, Your Argument is cloſe and ſubſtantial,
your Enumeration of particulars exact, and your
Conſequence undeniable : I fay, if thoſe three
things be proved, which yet you only ſuppoſe ;

the pinch of the buſineſs therefore lies in the
' proof of thoſe three Aſſertions; and if you are '
able to make out the truth of them ſeverally, as
you have done the conſequence of Religion from
the acknowledgment of them jointly, I muſt
turn over a new leaf, and be a Proſelyte, there
1s no help for it. Firſt therefore, how do you
prove there is a God? | |

Sebaſt, Ah, Biophzlus, hath not God given
ſufficient proof of himſelf to your own Heart
and Conſcience, by the lively imprefles he hath
made of himſelf there; and hath he not made
Demonſtration of his Divinity to all the World
by all his Operations, eſpecially by the Creation
ofthis mighty Fabrick of Heaven and Earth,and
zl] that admirable Power, Wiſdom and Good

neſs,

i

o
,
g

F

Part IIL C onference: | 69

neſs, which ſhines through the whole frame of
Nature? This (let me tell you) is the proof of
himſelf, which he himſelf appealsto, P/al. 19. r.
The heavens declare the glory of God, and the fir-
mament ſetteth forth his handy werk, Atid again,
Rom. 1. 22. The inviſible things of him are ſeen
by the creation of the world, &C. ;

Bioph. W hat pity it is that fo brave a begin-
ning ſhould come off thus poorly ! I did ſuſpe&t
it would cometo this; but could vou think, Se-
baftian, that I would be born down with the
Authority of an old Book in ſuch a caſe as this
iS? no, no, I muſt have my
reaſon ſatisfied : I ſay again The proof of the
therefore, how do you prove Being of God.
there is a God?

Sebaſt. You are, I perceive, as quick in re-
plying as you are flow in believing; however E
am glad, that though you are incredulous, you
are not humourſome too. Some Man perhaps
in your place would have faid let me ſee a God;
but it ſeems you are content to have your rea-
fon ſatisfied. Now do not miſtake me, Bzophi-
Iss, 1 did not intend to urge you with the Au-
thority of theſe Sacred Writers, but with the .-
force of the Argument they make uſe of, Tell
me then in earneſt, how do you ſatisfie your rea-
fon concerning the exiſtence of any thing which
you do not ſee? or, in brief; Do younot think
that to be ſufficient proof of the Being of a Cauſe,
when it is made out by its Effects ?

Bioph. Yes, I do; for if I ſee (Phenomena,
or) appearances of things, which I can give no
account of without reſolving them into fuch a
cauſe, then I conclude ſuch a cauſe muſt be as

real

0 A Winter-Evenng Pare III.
real as thoſe appearances or effes are.

Sebaſt. Very good, then I tell you, after the
ſame manner Eb isa God, namely, be-
cauſe there are ſuch effeRs as ſpeak and neceſla-
tily require ſuch a Caufe.

Bioph. Now you are right again, make that
out and you do your work.

Sebaſt. That. there is ſuch a ,thing as that
which we call the World, or this great build.
ing of Heaven and Earth, with all the Furniture
and Inhabitants of ir, this I am ſure” you will
grant; but how this World came to be what
It is, is to be conſidered of: Now, ſay I, as
Art betray an Artiſt, and the Effet the Cauſe ;
fo doth the Being of a World ſpeak a God that
made it, The mere exiſtence of ſuch a thing as
a World, requires that there bea Cauſe of that
exiſtence, and that is it which we mean by a fir
Cauſe ; and then the admirable art and plain
footſteps of skill and contrivance, which are vi-
ſible in the frame of this World, require that
. this firſt Cauſe be wiſe and powerfull , which is
the:more compleat Notion of a God. So that, (as
I faid)) ſo ſurely as there is a World, ſo ſurely
theremuſt be a God; foraſmmuch as if rhere had
not been. a God to make it, there could have
been nothing at all : is not this plain proof, Bio-
philss, and ſuch as you required ?

Bioph.. Very far from it I aflure you (if my
underſtanding fail me not) for, in the firſt place,
why might not the World make it fſelf2 Or,
ſecondly, why. might it not be from Eternity,
without beginning? Or, laſtly, why might it
not. be made by chance ? All which.Opinions,
you- know, have had their reſpective —_

ow

han ta. te . a oc

” £3

Part III.” Conference. "y

Now any of theſe ways (it is evident, that)
your Argument for a God comes to nothing,

Sebaft. God help you, Bto-
philus; Did not you promiſe = = 5 nag
that you would not ſeek to Far : '1 2 qpnathe
ſhift off the ArgumentsT ſhould
bring for this cauſe, by little querks and evaſi-
ons? And can you ſo ſoon find in your heart to
' give countenance to the moſt exploded abſurdi-
ties? Nay, to ſwallow the moſt palpable con-
traditions, rather than yield to reafon for the
belief of a God. And that this is your caſe, is
evident enough, by the multitude of ſhifts you
muſter together at this preſent: Forl afſure my
ſelf, if youdurſt have truſted to any one of theſe
ſingly, you would have inſiſted on that, and not
mentioned the other ; and you know, if each of
them ſingle are abſurd, the combination of them
all together, cannot mend the matter, nor make
a reaſonable ObjeCtion againſt the Argument I
have brought.

Bioph. You ſay well, but then you muſt make
it appear that all theſe are mere ſubterfuges, 0-
therwiſe they muſt ſtand for a ſufficient anſwer -
and, I pray you, in the firſt place, why might
not the World make it ſelf? and then there is
no need of a God.

Sebaſt. Even for this ſmall reaſon the World
could not make it ſelf, becauſe it implies a flat
Contradiltion: for then it muſt be cauſe and Ef-
fect, in the ſame reſpeR, and at the ſame time;
7, e. it muſt alt before it was, and be before it
If: in a word, it muſt be and not be together,
and if that be not abſurd enough, I know not
what is ſo,

Broph.

52 4 Winter- Evening Part It, |

Bioph. T confeſs, you ſeem to have loaded
that conceit with «dium enough ; but then, how
comes it to paſs that the Men of your Perſiwaſi-
on digeſt all this impoſſibility well enough in a-
nother way, when they ſay, God had his Being
from himſelf, or gave Being to himſelf? if this
can be true, I ſee not but the other may.
Sebaſt. Very right, Sir, for either of them
3s impoſſible : but you miſtake (the Men of my
Perſwaſjon, as you call thetn) for there is no
Man of ſenſe will fay or mean, that poſitively
God gave Beginning or Being to himfelf; but
only negatively, that he had not hisBeing from
any other Cauſe ; that is, he is properly an E-
ternal neceſſary Being, without any Cauſes, or
Beginning at all: andif you go about to apply
this to the World, you forſake your firſt hold,

and fly to your ſecond refuge. Ng
Bioph. 1 arh ſenſible of what you fay. I con-
feſs, my firſt ObjeCtion is not tenable ; but what
fay you then to the ſecond? Why may not the
World be Eternal 2 And then you ſeem to grant
there can be no neceſlity of a God. £
Sebaſt. To your ſecond Evaſion IT oppoſe
theſe three things, which when you have con-
fidered of, I doubt not but you will fee it to be
EC, 2 better _ the — (Rn
ar Fre Mor's Namely, firſt, I will fhew you
— roms: that ”_ can gain nothing by
it, if it ſhould be true. Se-
condly, that the ſuppoſition of it is more diffi-
cult and incredible, than that which you ſeek
to avoid by it: and, Thirdly, Fhat it is impoſ-

fible it ffrould be true.

Firſt;

Part III. Conference. 73

Firſt, You can gain nothing towards the Sa-
tisfattion of your Mind, or for the eaſing you
of any Difficulty, by aſſerting the Eternity of
the World. For the greateſt difficulty in the
whole . buſineſs of Religion, and indeed in all
Philoſophy too, is, to acknowledge ſuch a thing
as an Eternal Being, or any thing that hath nei-
thers cauſe nor beginning, which here you ſwal-
low without chewing, in ſuppoſing the World
to be Eternal. |

It is true indeed, if a Man look to the very
bottom of things, it is not to be avoided; gut
that ſome Eternal, and ſelt-exiftent Being mnſt
be granted. For ſeeing nothing can give Being
to it ſelf (as I ſhewed you but now) it is plain
that either ſomething muſt have been without
beginning, or nothing could have been at all;
z. e. there muſt be either an Eternal God, or
ſome eternal Cauſe or other, or no thing could
ever have been in time. For whatever firſt be.
Sins to be, muſt take its riſe from ſomething
that had no beginning.

This, I fay, muſt neceſſarily be yielded by e-
very conſidering Man, and youconfefs as much,
when, to avoid the acknowledgment of a God,
you ſuppoſe the World to be eternal. Now in
ſo doing you bring in as great a difficulty (at
leaſt) as that which you would ſeem to avoid ;
for the belief of an Eternal Being is manifeſtly
the hardeſt thing to conceive in the whole Noti-
on of a God: fo that (as I faid) you expedite
no difficulty thereby, but only plainly betray an
unwillingneſs to believe there is a God, and
that is all that comes of it.

F Nay

7 4, A Winter- Evening Part HI.

Nay, ſecondly, This Suppoſition of yours is
far more difficult than that which it is deſigned
to avoid. For it is apparently more unreaſonable
to allow Eternity to the World than to God ;
becauſe to beeternal, orto be without cauſe and
beginning, implies a neceflity- of exiſtence, or
that ſuch a thing could not but- be: for nothing
can be: eonceived to be- without Efficient or
Cauſe of its Being, but that which could not
but be, or which was impoſhble not to be. Now
& dare appeal to you whether it-be- not- more rea-
ſonable to ſuppoſe ſuch a ſuperlatively excellent
kind of Being, tobe the privilege of a wife, pow-
erfull and free Agent (by which we mean a God)
than to apply it to that Lump of Matter- (which
we call the World; ) or (which amounts to the
ſame thing) whether it be not more likely that
this wonderfull Prerogative of firſt being, or ne-
ceſſity of exiſtence (which you acknowledge
muſt be ſeated ſomewhere) ſhould be accompa-
nied with Life, Underſtanding, Freedom of
Will, &sc, all which are in the Notjon of a
God, than that ſuch a Prerogative ſhould goa-
lone, and fo the firſt and principal Being, be in
effett one of 'the meaneſt, as being deſtitute of
alk thoſe other Perfeftions, as mult needs. be, if
the World be that firſt and Eternal Being;

Eſpecially if you caſt in this alſo, that nei-
ther you nor any rational Man would ever-have
gone about to fanſje the World's being nece(ſa-
rily exiſtent or without beginning, but only for
want of a God to make it (1 mean upon ac-'
count of the difficulty of underſtanding. ſich a
Being as is required in the cafe; now forafnuch

as that includes no greater difficulty, than what
| you

Part II. C onference. 75

you are conſtrained to acknowledge without a
God, it is extreamly unjuſt to rely upon it as
a ſufficient ObjeQion againſt him.

But, thirdly and laſtly, This Suggeſtion of
yours concerning the Eternity of the World is
plainly impoſſible to be true: as it were eaſje to
make out in any of the ſeveral parts or parcels,
of which it conſiſts. But I will content my ſelf
to ſhew it you in the inſtance of Mankind only,
and that after this manner.

. If Mankind was from Eternity or without
inning, then it muſt conſequently be ac-
knowledged that there have been infinite Suc-
ceſſions of Men, one after another, and that
fome of thoſe Generations have been infinitely
diſtant from others. For all this is implied in
iafinite Succeſſion, or the Eternity of ſucceſſive
Beings. But now let us take what link we wi!)
of this Chain, I mean, let us rake what Man
ſever in this infinite line, it is.certain he will
be but Thirty, or Forty, or an Hundred Years
(more or leſs) elder than ſome Son of his, which
proceeded from him by lineal Deſcent. And
then it isas plain that in this cafe, that Son of
his (whoever he was) is not eternal or of infi.
nite Duration, becauſe he is of lefs Duration
than his Father, by the ſaid Thirty or Forty
Years, (or more or leſs; ) and on the other ſide,
it is plain alſo, that the Father cannot be eter-
nal, or of infinite Duration neither, becauſe he
is but Thirty or Forty Years (as aforeſaid) elder
than the ſaid Son who was finite, For a finite
number added to a finite can never make an in-
finite. Therefore (upon the whole) this race
of Mankind cannot be infinite, but muſt have
F 2 had

76 A Winter-Evening Part III.

had a beginning, and conſequently there muſt
be a God who gave beginning to him, and to
all things elſe. What think you now, Broph:-
lus? what is become of your ſecond Evaſion of
a God, by ſuppoſing the World to be Eternal?

Bioph. Truly I cannot well tell what to ſay,
but that I am deceived in you; I ſuſpected you
would have entertained me with long Harangues,
and have wheedled me wich Oratory: but I
fear now you will run me down by main force,
unleſs there be ſome trick of Sophiſtry in it.

S$ebaſt. God forbid that I ſhould tell a lye for
him, whoſe Cauſe needs not to be defended by
a Cheat ; no, aflure your ſelf the Argument is
ſound and ſubſtantial, if I had known the leaſt
flaw in it, I would never have made uſe of it ;
and I am confident the more you conſider it, the
more ſolid and unanſwerable you will find it.

Bioph, Then I perceive, I am reduced to my
laſt refuge, That theWorld was
made by Chance, orelſe I muſt
yield you there is a God; and
why may not that be true,
which a great SeCt of Philoſophers, I mean the
Epicureans, held, viz. That ſome lucky hit of
Matter at laſt produced the World withoat a
God? and if once things were gotten into Being
without him, there could be no neceſtity after-
wards to introdace him, and conſequently no
obligation of Religious Obſervance towards
him.

Sebaſt. In thoſe laſt words you reaſon very,
well, Bzephilzs, and it's pity you had not a bet-
ter Hypothelis to exerciſe it upon. For it is
very true, that if it was poſſible to imagine a

World

That the World
was not made by
Chance.

Part III. Conference. 77

World to be made any other way, or without a
God, there could be no ſufficient reaſon to bring
him upon the Stage, or much lefs any Religi-
ous Obligation towards him; and therefore
doubtleſs it was only Hypocriſie and a piece of
Cunning in your Epicurean Friends, to bring
in a God when they had fanfied the making of
the World without him : the former they did
to decline the odium of flat Atheiſm, and to ſe-
cure themſelves from the danger of Humane
Laws; but by the latter they undermined the
reaſons of Religion, which was the thing they
aimed at, But as to that Hypotheſis of theirs,
which you now eſpouſe, it is the moſt miſera-
ble ſhift of all you have made. For,

1. This takes for granted, That the matter
of the World exiſted of it ſelf and was Eternal,
which I doubt not but hath appeared abſurd e-
nough by what hath been ſaid already upon the
former Head.

2. It ſuppoſes alſo matter to be in motion,
without any cauſe of that motion ; which is
worſe than the former, ſince we can never fſa-
tisfie our ſelves that motion naturally belongs to
matter, but contrariwiſe, that it is only paſſive,
and capable of receiving it from ſomething elle.
Now till theſe two things be proved, it is in
vain to dream what lucky hits might happen in
order to the Production of a World.

3. It ſuppoſes mere Chance and blind Con-
tingency to be the ſole cauſe of the moſt Wiſe,
Regular and Artificial Effects that can be ima-
gined. Now it ſeems beyond meaſure ridicu-
lous to think. that ſuch a World as this plainly
js, wherein there are undeniably all the foot-
# F 3 ſteps

28 A Winter Evening Patt Il:

ſteps ofthe moſt exquifiteskil and contrivatice;
whetein (1 ay ) there is both Mich admirable
vatiety of things, and yet ſuch exact order and
correſporidence of one thing with anothet, atid
withal ſach-conftaticy in the Laws of the whole,
that this ſhould be effefted notwithſtanding ,
without atiy reaſon or wiſdotn, and be the pro-
dud of blihd Charice. It were certainly a thou-
ſand times more'thenly to imagine that Books
were written by the caſual coincidence of Letters,
or Houſes and Ships were built by a fortuitous
jumble of Stones, Iron and Tiriber, than that
Chatice ſhotild take ſuch a World as this :
which for Greatneſs, Order, Symmetry atid
Beauty, and all other inſtatices of Art and Wi
dom, infinitely ſurpaſſes all humane performan-
ces Whatſbever : and now, what is become of
ur three formidable Objettions ?
Bioph. Nay, do not triuriph too ſoon, Se-
baſtian, the Fieid is not yet won ; for I have
a reſerve that may chance put yoti to it Kill,
and it is this; You have I confeſs, argued
ſmartly to prove the World could not be made
without an Efficient, but you forget that this
will recoil upon your ſelf, who have taken»no
care for matter out of which God ſhould make
a World; and fire it is as difficult {to want
Matter as to want an Architert. |
— Sebaft. It is very true, Þ
meet >, have not, in my Hypotheſis
1%: "a fl rr rovided matter for the ma-
ing of the World, but yet I
have proved ati eternal, perfett and unlimited
Being for the Efficient, who may very well be
ſuppoſed to be able to ſupply the want of that
et kw 5 on | out

Patt TIT. Conference. | 79

out of his own eminent Perfetion : for it iscer-
tain that the firſt and ſupreme Cauſe muſt needs
have the Root and Seeds of all things in him-
ſelf, and eminently contain all the powers of in-
feriour cauſts, and conſequently may well be
ſuppoRdable to ſupply a material Cauſe, at leaſt
here is no contradiftion in all this, and there-
fore it cannot be ſaid to be impoſſible, (for no-
thing can be juſtly pronounced to be the latter,
but what falls under the former) but now for
motion to begin without a mover, and any
thing to be fected without an attive cauſe, is
plainly contradictious to our Reaſon, and there-
to be pronouticed impoſſible.

You Re an inſtance, or at leaſt ſome kind of
teſemblance of the former inour ſelves; weframe
thoughts out of the pregnancy of our own minds
without any matter to make them of, and there-
fore we thay much rather allow God to be able
to do Þ. |

Beſides if I ſhould grant you that God had
matter at hand out bf which to make a World,
you would be at the fame loſs ſtill to know how
he was able to make Souls out of it ; and ſuch
things there are in the World, which it is every
whit as difficultto ſhew how they can be extra.
Fed vut of matter, as ro ſuppoſe matter it ſelf
to be ſupplied by the unconfined power of the
Supreme Agent; and therefore you had as good
reſt ſatisfied in the anſwer above, viz. That for
any thing to begin tobe without an Efficient is
cotitradiftious, but to begin to be without a ma-
terial Cauſe can never be proved to be ſo. And
now, I hope, your Reſetve is vanquiſhed as well

as your Main Body, and you will now acknow-
F 4 ledge

80 A Winter-Evening Part III.

ledge that notwithſtanding all your Obje&tions
to the contrary, the mere Fabrick of the World
is a ſufficient evidence of a God.

Phil. T have with great Satisfaftion heard
all this long Diſpute between you my two
Friends; I could not in Conſcience take your
part, Biophilus, and I know Sebaſtian, you need
not my aſſiſtance, and I am glad to ſee Viftory
begin to incline to the right ſide : but all this
while T could not chuſe but ſtand and admire
the Divine Patience, who ſuffers the curious
and ingratefull witzof Man to impeach his very
Being. Lord! that thoſe who were brought
into the World by him, ſhould fo ſtrenuouſly
endeavour to exclude him out of it; and that
thoſe ſhould muſter up all their wits againſt
him , that made them to differ from the Beaſts.

; But what ſhould be the oc-
- - —_— caſion of this I cannot imagine,
Jo houldbe es nor what ſhould tempt Men
willing to believe tO be ſo unwilling to believe a
ws was ooh God. If like (what the Po-
ora T.- ctsfay of) Sears, he catu
| as 1 *- hisown Children; or like Mp:
loch, the Idol of the Ammonites,
he could be pretended to take delight in the
fad cries and dying groans of his Worſhippers,
they could not well do more againſt him than
they do.
. Or if he was a ſevere Tyrant, that lay at
catch for his SubjeQs, and like Buſyris or Phala-
ris, imploy'd himſelf wholly in deviſing Tortures
for them ; or if he was a God of mere Power
and Will, and fo always to be horribly dreaded,
becauſe

Part ITT. Conference. $1

becauſe Men know not what uſe he would make
of his unlimited Power, no wonder then if they
were willing to be rid of him.

Or if he was only (8% «mr wer) a mere
neceſſary Agent, that only ſerved a certain turn
in the world, namely, to give beginning to Mo-
tion, then when that work was done, Men might
perhaps be content to ſpare him.

But ſince he is perfect Wiſdom, and perfect
Goodneſs, and in one word, Perfection it ſelf,
containing in his own Nature all that is deſirable,
the firſt of Beings, and therefore can want no-
thing, becauſe there was nothing before him to
reſtrain or limit him, and becauſe all things
were in himas in their Fountain, infinitely full
and ſelf-ſufficient, that he can need nothing from
his Creatures, nor can grudge them any thing
that is fit for them.

A God that made us merely out of the over.
flowings of his own Goodneſs, and that he might
have thoſe whom he might delight and make hap=
py in the Communications of himſelf to them.

A God that is always pre=- 7; Gut; de.
ſent to us, tender of us, and ſable Being, &c.
daily doth us good in this
World, and hath provided an Heaven of un-
ſpeakable felicity to receive us into, and treat us
in, when he takes us hence.

What can tempt us, I fay, to wiſh he were
not, to diſpute his Being, or ſo much as to en-
tertain a doubt concerning him, who is the moſt
deſirable thing in the whole World?

Come, Biophilas, lay down your Arms and
ſubmit to this great and good God, and he will
pardon you; you diſpute all this while againſt

your

82 A Winter-Evennmy Part Ill,

your flf and your own Cotnfort-more than a-
Hainſt him. There is 110 contending With the AL
mighty, he can coniflite you with Thunder, and
Fite, and Brimftone, and fo he Might right
himſelf, but then you will periſh ; but he is pt-
tifull and gracious, and had rather you ſhould
be ſenſible of his Goodneſs, than feel the effets
of his Power. You ſaid, reaſon would fatisfie
you, and I think you have had it frofh Sebaſt+an ;
deal ingenuonlly therefore; Do you not ſee ſuf-
ficſefit Zround to believe there isa God? It is tro
diſhonoutr to yield to truth.

Bioyh, I perceive Iam affaulted on both fides;
like the Traveller in the Fable, by the Sun atid
the Wind ; Sebaſtian hath preſs'd hard upon me
by Arguments, and you Phzlandey, have chartn-
ed tne with your Eloquence, and the loyely Pj-
ture you have drawn of God. I can no longer
withſtand you, I yield, I yield there is a God.

Sebaſt. God be thanked we are gotten one
ſep onwards of our way towards Religion, we
have a God to worſhip; but I muſt ingenuouſly
confeſs toyou (asT have intimated already ) that
this will not do the buſineſs if we go no farther.
For though in conſideration that there is a
God, and he a great at excellent Being, it may
be fit and decent ro worſhip him; yt this hath
not the effe&t of a Law, tir {ufficiently obli-
868 any Creature to the doing of it, unleſs it ap-

pear alſo that this God exEr=

That thefe is a Ciſe a Providetice byer the
hgrey w_ World, that is, utileſs he ob-
:he ſecond Principl; etve the Cattiape, rethatk the
of Religitn, Attions, whether good of e-
» vil, of thoſt he expects Reli-

g10u5

Part III. Conference. 83

ious Obſervance from, and will ſome way or 0-
ther call them to account, and reward of puniſh
them reſpe&ively. But if this ſecond point
be made out too, this will bring the buſineſs
hotne, and make it the great concern of all
thoſe that love thetaſtlves, to be deyout and Re-
ligious.

Bioph. T am vety ſenſible of it, Sebaſtian, atid
that not only becauſe iny old Maſter Eprctirns
Statrited a God, but dehying a Providence,
thotight himſelf ſecure enough from that God,
arid under no Obligations to Religion ; but
alſs becauſe your own Method, which you haye
laid down, requires it : let that therefore be
your next undertaking. |

Sebaſt, It ſhall be ſo, Biophilns,atid that not on-
ly for the Reaſons you give me for 16 doing, but
alſo becauſe I am aware;that although the Argyi-
ment I made uſe of for the proof of the Being
of God, be ſtrong and unanſierable, yet I cots.
fels it was ſomething obſcure and metaphyſical
(which there was io help for) but now if I make
out that there is a Providence, this will add
both light and ftrength to what I have hitherto
diſcourſed. For though it tmay be imagined that
there is a God, and yet no Providence, yet it is
indubitable, that if there be a Providence, there
muſt be a

Now that there is ſuch a Providence as we
ſpeak of, I doubt not to convince any conſiderate
Man of, theſe two ways, viz.

1. From the Caufes and Reafons of it.
| 2. From the viſible Inſtances and Effects of
_ — jy |

In

84 I Winter-Evening Part III.

In the firſt place, There is
very great reaſon to aſſureones
ſelf that God exerciſes a Pro-
vidence over the World from the Conſideration
of thoſe Perfeftions, which (by what hath been
faid already) appear to be in the Divine Na-
ture, namely, Infinite Wiſdom and Power, both
which we muſt neceſſarily aſcribe to him, whom
we allow to be Creator of the World. Now.
there can be no reaſon to doubt whether it be
in his power to look over and mind all the paſ-
fages of the World, when we have acknowledg-
ed his power to have been ſufficient to give be-
ginning to that which was not, and to make a
World out of nothing, which is incomparably
the more difficult Province.

And then if we are fatisfied that ſuch a Pro.
vidence is not impoſſible, the fame Wiſdom
which joined with his Power in making the
World, will oblige him to exert and put forth
himſelf in the management of it when he hath
made jt. For it is not conceivable that a wiſe
Being ſhould wholly abandon and be unconcern-
ed for that piece of Workmanſhip of his where-
in he hath made the greeteſt demonſtration of
Art and Skill in the contrivance of, Such a ſu-
pine negligence as this is not eaſily to be ſuſpeCt-
ed in the meaneſt of intelligent Beings; and
therefore there can be no colour -of reaſon that
the firſt and moſt perfetit of Beings ſhould be
thought guilty of it.

This I take to bea ſufficient Argument of a
Providence between you and me, now that you
are come to the acknowledgment of a God and
Creatour of the World ; but I will not inſiſt
upon

Proofs of a Pro-
widence.

Part III. Conference. 85

upon it, becauſe I promiſed to give ſuch
evidence of this Point, as ſhould at «the ſame
time (and 2 majors, as they ſay) conclude the
former Principle alſo, I mean, That there is
a God.

And therefore I ſhould now come to the ſe-
cond way of probation, viz. from the viſible in-
ſtances and eifets of a Providence, but (you re-
member) I have already prevented my ſelf here-
in, by what paſſed between us
in a former Conference, where
I ſhew'd, at large, the evident
Footſteps of Providence in his managing or 0-
ver-ruling the ordinary courſe of nature in two
remarkable inſtances, viz. 1. In the Prophecies
and Predictions of things to come, which have
been ſo admirably verified in the Event, as muſt
argue an All-ſceing Eye over all the Motions of
ſecond Cauſes. And, 2. In the Miracles that
have been wrought in the ſeveral Ages of the
World, wherein the Divine Majeſty hath appa-
rently interpoſed, and either ſuſpended or over.
ruled, hightned or accelerated the Motion and
force of Natural cauſes, and by both together,
given proof of his Being, and of his minding
the affairs of the World.

I aſſure my ſelf I ſhall not need to repeat that
Argument at large, but may truſt your Memo-
ry for it; only, if now upon fo long time of
Conſideration, you have any thing material to
obje&t on that account, I am ready to make
good what I have afſerted,

Bioph, I muſt needs fay you deal fairly and in-
genuguſly thus far ; and now that I recollect the
ſumm and drift of that diſcourſe of _ I

ave,

P. Conf. 2. peg.
183.70p. 201.

6 A Winter-Evening Patt IIt.

_— have, as I think, this very ma-

The great Ob. terial thing to ſay againſt ir,
Jedtion againſi - namely, That we cannot obſerve
or ren. Mira. any ſuch Interpoſitions of Di-
cles to be ſeen now. Vine Providence as you fpealk

of, now-a-days, but the World
is left wholly to the courſe of Natural Cauſes.
If you could have appealed either to Miracles or
Prophecy in the prefent Age, ſo that a Man
might have made his own Eyes witneffes of mat-
ter of fact, then the Argument would have been
irrefragable ; but foraffauch as we ſte no fich
things in the preſent times, why ſhould we be
fd credulous as to believe there ever were? Af-
idil me this difficulty etearly and ſubſtantially,
and it will go a great way with me; for I ac-
knowledge (as you obſerve) that if this Argu-
ment be ſound, the influence of it extends far-
ther than the preſent Queſtion, and to be ſure
will leave no doubt that there is a God.

Sebaſt. T am very ſenſible of the importance
ef your Objection, and of the neeeffity that a

ſifficient anfiver be made to it ;
ene bur I do not, in the leaſt
jeftim. doubt but you will find it in
the following Particulars, by

that time you have laid them fogether.

Firſt, I ſappoſe you will grant me that there
ea beno-need of, or reaſon for God's diſplaying
himfelf by Miracles or a Spirit of Prophecy in
the preſent Ape, for theafſurance of a Providenes,
if ſo be we may be ſufficiently ſecured that he
hath indubitably given thoſe evidences already
in former Ages. For he that hath once ſuffi-
cient grounds given him to believe fuch a —

[8 at is

Part HF. Conference. 85

hath always an Obligation upon him to believe
that thing, without repeated Proots of it. And
it is unreaſonable to expett that God Almighry
ſhould be bound to exert his Omnipotency, or
any way put out of courſ the order of Natural
Cauſes, merely for the Gratification of Mens
Curioſity or Phancy, but only for the Satisfa&ti-
on of theirReafdn in fo important a Point.

Then, Secondly, In the next place I will ſhew
you that (bating merely the gratifying of Cu.
rioſity and Phancy, as aforeſaid) we may have as
credible and ſufficient aſſurance of a Miracle or
other extraordinary paſſage of Providenee,
which was done many Apes agone, as we could
have, if ſuch a thing was to be done in the pre-
ſent - Age. This will perhaps ſem a little
ſtravge to- you at firſt, but your wonder will a-
bate-when you conſider theſe two things:

x. Fhat it cannot be expected that God
ſhould fo far comply with the humour of Men,
as to work Miracles every day, and in the fight
of every Man. Miracles are a kind of Parenthe-
fis in the ordinary courſe of Nature, or, as it
were, a ſhort Digreſſion from the uſual method
of things. Now if ſuch Digreſſions ſhould be
daily made, it would be, in a manner, a total
ſuperſeding of the ordinary courſe of Nature ;
and ſo inſtead of ſerving the particular turn or
humour of ſome Men, the whole Race of Man-
kind would be deprived of a greater and more
remarkable Miracle than all the other put toge-
ther, namely, that of the ſta-
ble and conſtant courſe of Na- , 7 _—_ of
ture. And ſuch frequent irre- 11,5. 70s oh-
gularitics as muſt follow upon ſand. ,

that

88 A Winter-Evening Part Ill.

that Conceſſion, would put a very great Tem-
ptation upon Men to ſuſpe*t that there was no
conſtant Law and Rule in the Creation, but
that Chance carried all before it; which would
make an Objection indeed againſt Providence.
And yet it is certain that notwithſtanding this
horrible miſchief, ſo it muſt be done, if every
particular Man muſt have his Eyes witneſſes of _
Miracles before he believes them. For it is ©
plain that if God ſhould vouchſafe one or more
Miracles to the preſent Age, it could not be
done before every Man : and therefore ſome of
them, if they will believe a Providence upon
that account, muſt truſt to other Mens Eyes for
the grounds of their belief.

And thus we ſee it was in thoſe times and
places where Miracles were moſt frequent, as
ſuppoſe in the time of our Saviour, thoſe migh-
ty Works which he wrought whilſt he was up-
on Earth, and even his Reſurreftion it ſelf,
were not obvious to the Eyes of all Men, but
only to ſo many as might render them ſuffici-
ently credible by their Teſtimony; and as for
the generality, they muſt content themſelves 70
believe without ſeeing, St. John 20. 29. as he

himſelf told them.
2. If God ſhould fo farcon-
Ancient Miracles Geſcend to the incredulity of
_ = Cm” 47 Men, as to permit generally
yy ind i. fn. their Eyes and Senſes to be
reſpe#s mors cer- Witneſſes of ſuch extraqrdinary
tain. Paflages of providence as we
ſpeak of, it would not have
ſuch ſucceſs as you imagine, for there would
not want Objections againſt this alſo: ſas

wo

Part INI. .. Conference. ' B89

would then ſuſpet, their very Senſes, or ſay that
either their Imaginations were deluded, or elſe
it. may beall was done by Natural Cauſes, though
perhaps they.,did not well underſtand them,
or. at leaſt ;would conclude that which appears
to be a Miracle was merely an. Accident, and fo
there is no account to be ſought or.given of it.
Thus we.know the greateſt Miracles that ever
were-wrought have been ſhifted off, and eluded
even-in the times wherein they were done, and
by. thoſe Men that ſaw them. .But now when
thoſe things that I make the inſtances of a Pro-
vidence, (the ancient Miracles I mean) have
undergone the Teſt of Time, and been canvaſ-
ſed and diſcuſſed in ſeveral Ages, and yet noflaw
is found in them: in this caſe,.I ſay, wehave
more full ground for our belief, than if the
things had been freſh before our Eyes : for that
fame incredulous humour which now objects a=
yu the credit of things, becauſe they were
one long ago, would find out as good a trick
to put upon a preſent Miracle - if it was to be
had) namely, ſuch a Man would fay (and with
more colour of reaſon) that though I cannot de-
tedt the Cheat of this for the preſent, yet time
may diſcover it, which cannot be ſaid in the
other caſe,
But, Thirdly and laſtly, 1
add to all aforeſaid, That tho* The preſent times
It is true, that. all Ages are not Ry net 4
alike illuſtrated with ſuch pro» 7277 7 Prove
digious Acts of Providence as |
are properly and ftriftly called Miracles, yet
there is no time of the World wherein there
are not very plainly the Prints of Divinity, and
5 G evidences

go A Witer Evening Part AMI.
evidences of a Providence continually preſiding
over the World, if Men do-not- nr
deſpiſe them (for want of thepompous Cireum-
Rarices of Miracles) or ſtupidly- overlook them,
becauſe -of their cominonneF$''#rtd Epquency 3 ;
fuch as ('for- "exam ple) the preſerving the ſeve-
ral ſpecies.of things in the World; that amongſt
that vaſt multitude of the kinds of Birds, or In-
ſets, &e:: and their ſeveral enmitiesto one ano-
ther, and'the many accidents all of them are
expoſed to, there ſhould notwithſtanding in
long a tract” of time, not be any one kind of
them loſt or extinpuithed.

That the Holy Scriptures and Chriftian Relj-
gion ſhould be. upheld in ſpight of the Combi-
nation of Wit and Ignorance, Power and Ma-
lice againſt them.

That Civil Government ſhould be preſerved
againſt all” the Intereſts of reſolvedly wicked
Men, and againſt all the brutifh violence of the
mraged Movile.

Beſides the remarkable Infatuation of the
Counfels,” diſcovering the Plots, and defeating
the Deſigns of Crafty and Atheiſtical Politici-
#ns : The frequent terrours upon'the Conſci-
ences, and damps upon the Spirits of the mot
deſperate and flagi Sipous Men, and the afliſting, a-
nimating and corfforting the Hearts of zood
Men in their greateft Agonies'and'moſt difficul
undertakings. Some of theſe things I mention-
ed before in. our former Conference, and alt of
them are ſuch as happen in every Ape; and are
never the lefs evidences of Providence for be-
ing ordinary.

EY209 0:5 x Indeed

Part IIT: < onference. 0t

"Indeed it tity and doth falt out that now and
theh thitigs happen quite ofhetwiſe, as that
Confpiracies of wicked Men are ſuccefsfull, &e.
and God Almighty kems to order it f6 6h por-
ſe, becanfe he wilt not be ttaced in his Me-
hods, and becaufe he will leave ſome trials 6f
Mens willingneſs to believe in him and depend
opon Him z bot the other courſe is ſo aſual, and
things ofteri fall out ſo patly that way, that it
be extreme huttiouroufheſs to deny a Pro-
vidence in thett, |

Bat, befides all theſe, there is one og
fore cones now to my mind, which is indee
beyond all the forementioned, and ſeems to he
ſet tp on purpoſe by Divine Providence as 2
ſtanding Monument of it felf to all Apes, and
that is the preſent Condition of the Fews.

They were once a great and flouriſhing Ring-
dom, and fortunate beyond all example ; but
now from the time that they grew incurably
wicked and rebellious againſt the God that had
ſo fignally bleſs'd them, and had to allthetr other
irpieties crucified the Saviotr of the World ;
They have now (I fay) for the ſpace of fixteen
or ſeventeen hundred of Years, been /ike rhe
Field which God hath curſed, and been the moſt
prodigious inſtance of unhappineſs that ever was
in the World. Foraſmuch as though theyare ſtill |
vaſtty numerous, a cunning, crafty and projecting
ſort of People, yet they are every where ſcatter.
ed —_ dll Nations, but every where under
marks of Infamy, ated no where able to becorne

a People fo as to live under Laws, and a Govern-
metit of their own: riotwithſtanding all which,
and which is the wonder of all, they keep up

| G 2 their

92 A Winter-Evening Part III.

their Stock and Pedigree with the greateſt ex-
aCtneſs imaginable, as if God intended (as cer-
tainly he did) by all this to ſet them forth as a
lively inſtance both of his juſt Providence, and
of the truth of the Spirit of Prophecy in the
Holy Scriptures. And now this, together with
the foregoing inſtances, I think, affords ſiffici-
ent evidence that God doth not now neglect
the World, and leave all to run in the Road of
Natural Cauſes, but even in theſe latter Ages as
well as formerly gives ſome ſignal ſtrokes of an
over-ruling hand : which was the thing to be
roved. And thus the two firſt Principles of
eligion are ſecured. What think you, Bio-
philus 2 deal plainly, and if you have any thing
further to fay to the contrary, propound it.
Bioph. Truly I have nothing very material to
ſay farther
Sebaſt. Then God be thanked we have now
gained two feet for Religion to ſtand upon ;
namely, we have a God to whom it is due, and
we have an Obligation from the Conſideration
of his Providence, to make all the World care-
full and obſervant of him, at leaſt ſo far as any
part of the Creation is capable of ſuch a
duty.
Bioph, Very right, but I remember you ſaid,
That to lay the Foundation of Religion effetu-
ally, there muſt be conſiderati-
a = Prin- on alſo ne ſabjeQts of it :
expe of 8engiom, and it muſt appear in particu-
Peper go lar, that Mankind is nd a
capacity of the aforeſaid Obli-
gation, and of paying and performing this duty
towards the Divine Majeſty accordingly. Now
as

Patt-III. Conference. + 93

as for this, though I foreſee no difficulty in the
caſe, yet however, I pray, expreſs your ſelf a
little more fully about it, left I ſhonld be under
any miſtake. -- --- Wb

Sebaſt. The bottom of this third Point is no
more but this: To make Mankind a Subje& ca-
pable of the Obligations of Religion, theſe three
things are requiſite : tg bot IAG

x. That he be-able in ſome meaſure to judge
what carriape' from himfelf is fit and decent to-
wards God.

2. That he be a free Agent; and have it in
his choice and © power to determine himſelf to-
wards the performance of what he underſtands
to be fit and decent, or towards the contrary if
_ hewill. 4 ha, Mp

3. That he be able to refleft'wpon what he
hath done, ſo'as fo accuſe and condemn, or to

it - and ;Juſtifie himſelf accordingly''as his
Adions and 'Ciftiage towards''the Deity have
been agreeable -or-difagreeable'to the- judgment
aforeſaid. 44) 19600. nog, bag
- The firſt of theſe- Powers and Capacities is
commonly called Underſtanding; the ſecond ,
Will or Freedom' of choice ; and” the third is
known by the name of Conſcience.

Without the firſt of theſe, namely, if 'Man-
kind had not Underſtanding to diſcern the diffe»
renee of things, and ſome rule” within him
whereby to judpge-of moral Good and Evil, he
would be lawleſs and-brutiſh, having-no other
meaſures to go by than his Paſſions and Senſes.

Without the ſecond, namely, If he had not
Freedom of will to” determine himſelf towards
Good and Evil, as he pleaſed, he muſt then be

G 3 under

96 4 Winter-Evenys Part II;

under: a--fata}; geceflity of. doing whatſhever he
auld happen-to doe: andithen as he could give
ng propt of | his Temper. and Inelingtion, fo
there could be no ſuch rhing as acceptahleneſs ta
70d When he did well, nor blameablengſs when
hedid otherwiſe; becauſe there could þe no ſuch
things as Vertue or Vice jn-his m3 -and conſe-
quently no more room for eithgp #gwards or pys
pifluments, than there is in the gaogipn of Plants
ao: Noo ;- 0 :387 other: the moſt inſcatble
INZSS.
. Withous-the third apd laſt, yz, 1f Mankind
had nf furh-2 faculty in him-as we call Confci.
$#fy 12 as tree upon his Owe actions apd
F-47FH4ifs 200-Ly yertur of which he either.pps
plauds and juſtifies himſelf when he hath obey+
7 tha beſt-reaſon of; his ming, pr-yphrejds god
OUS AHA(Rlt whenſoeyer be hath dene other:
we, g:eanlqagither haye any ſpprite Vertue,
por checkrupan;Vice, and conſtauently would
Put by all theſe together (if they appesr 49
be inherent jo HLumene Nature) Mankind js fal-
ly gyghified for theQbligations of Religion,
-: Now laghing gver the World as far as we can,
we find no Creature that 'ws-egnverſe with, to
be iodowed-with theſe faculties but our ſelves,
Than looking jnto aus frlves'we find by un-
ablg qypSignce that we have every one

. . o o
F

r#1t on; Nature; and

and Man

in Fe»
gard

Pate IIT. - Conference, * 95

gird jt is mahifeft by what hath been faid, that
there can be no\ſure ground for Religion with-
out it. 5 =. ve
And thus, I'think; I have fully anſwered your
demand concerning the groumd-work of Religi-
on; and laid outa Foundation both large enongh
and ſtrong though ro bear the whole Strufture.
And nolv I hope you will fee 16 cauſe to fuſ-
pt it tobe [a tmere melancholy Fahey; or poli-
tick Stratagem, the reſalkt of Edacation, or ef-
ft of Weakricfand Fear, but the moſt manly
and rational thing that any Man can concern
hitmſtlf about.
- © Bioph.-I:confeſb,' you have done as you fay,
Sebiftian, and 1 thank you heartily for it ; it is
tne, I could. ftitl have fornd out ſomething or
other to have replied, but E promiſed you Þ
would not uſt mere: ſubterfuges and diſmgenu-»
ous thifts; and 1. find without: thet-there is no-
thing*to be fxid farther in the caſe; fo that in
lairr E»g/iſk Imuſt profeſs F cannot tell whether
to admire, you or my ſelf, pardon the Ex.
pedion; I mean, whether more to he aſhamed
of —_— that have thus long laugh'd
- 9 pry ad Reljgion, or your:Pradence that
$Yſt hedp'd meth /teirk your: Preliminary De-
matids, that inp Mind could not rove from the
Point, and then purſaed me with cloſe Argu-
metits, that'}'haveins way to eſcape. In ſhort,
I ary convinced f& far, that Retigion is'a thing
diligettly to be: heeded, and: carefully inquired
thnto; I pray therefore; leave mie not in the Briars
you have brought me into, but as you have dif-
covered to me'the Foundations, ſo tell me what
Syperſtrudhyrs muſt be _— apon them, 8
þ 4 ene

96 A Winter-Evening Part III;

the firſt place, what do you mean by Religion2:
- ..! 1 Sebaſt; By Religion in gene-
ſcrlp F.. of - De- ral 1 underſtand nothing elſe but
ahi REP'es.; a: ſerious Study to'know God, to-
/ <1 \getber with a carefull endeavous,
to pleaſe bim,: and procure his favour. This-is
that which not only the ſeveral Sedts of Chriſti-
ans mean: by Religion, - but; is-that - which. all
Men of Senfe, arid even -the- better ſort of Pay
gans themfelves agree in. ©
Bioph.:'By-the- eaſinef6 of your Expreſſion, and
the few words you have made-uſe of-in this De-
ſcription, one would think the buſineſs it If
was more:<aſie than I doubt I ſhalt find it to. be :
but, I pray, however confider me as-an Idiotand
a Stranger ta this matter, and condeſcend to ex>
plain your ſelf-more particularly ; and firſt give
me leave ta.askyou what:you by the know-
ing of Godz:/Do you intend anything more than
the:acknowledgment that thereiis a God?: -
Sebaſt.:'Yes, Biophilus, 'Þ here ! underftand' a
great deab'/more by the knowing: of God, than]
did in/all-our former Diſcourſe whilſt we were
only laying the Foundations/of,Religion; there
indeed na more:was required than to acknowledge
his Being, and! that becauſe :(as;rT then ſhew'd
you) therein lies the firſt reaſon ofrſuch a things
we call Religion; -For there is nothing to oblige
a Man to. have-any regard-to:ihimſelf, nor to
make any :ditference. of his -Attions, till he. ac-
D5:2p 1/1122 knowledge: ſuch a Being as
4 The neeeſiir ,9 -hath a; Sovereignty over him,
Did. uae, © | and tawhom: he is accountable
; 7 /'- . for his: Carriage. But now
when that isrgſolved.of,' thenthere ariſes 8 =
IF 7 boy 4

Part III. Conference. 97

fold occaſion of ſtudying farther to know the
God which he acknowledges to be ;
Namely, Firſt, becauſe it cannot but appear

a pointof great decency and regard towards this
acknowledged Sovereign of the World, that
we employ our minds, the nobleſt powers we
have, in the ſtudy. and contemplation ' of him-;
and indeed to-do otherwiſe is not only unmanly,
but an Argument of ſuch contempt as is nor
conſiſtent with the real perſwaſion of ſuch a
Being as God. 61

- Again, Secondly; Foraſmuch as by the bare
acknowledgment that thereis aGod,. we ſee rea-
ſon to make a difference of things, and to have
a care of our Actions with reſpett -to him; fo
now when we, are-come to that, it will farther
concern us.in -particular ro have ſome rule and
meaſure to govern - our ſelves-by, and whereby
to.make a Diſtintion of good and evil, to the
end that we may pleaſe him in whatwe do: and
that is only-attainable by ferious ſtndy of the
Divine Nature; Attributes and ſuch Declarati-
ons of his Mind and Will as he hath made.
. For you muſt know that it is not every thing
whatſvever:we may fanſie, that will pleaſe him,
For then all-Religions would be alike true and
ſafe; and nogg: þut Atheifts and Hypocrites
could miſcarry. But it is certain God hath a
mind of his own, and that Devotion or Obfer-
vance only pleaſes him which is agreeable rg
him; all other. is - fooliſh Superſtition, and at
beſt but loſt labour. |
- Bioph, -But 1 hope, after all, you do not in-
tend to repreſent. the Deity as a touchy and hu.,
mourſome kind of Being; for then Fonſequent-
| | Y,

os A Winter-Evennig Part II].

ly, Religion' muſt needs be the moſt anxious
thing in the World, and far from what you have
— made me believe it was.

Sebaſt. God forbid, Brophilas, that ſuch a
thought of the Divine Majeſty ſhould enter ints
any Man's Heart, or that I ſhould' be guilty of
miſrepreſenting Religion at that rate. As for
God himfalf,: he is certainly nuthing elſe but
wiſe and great Goodneſs, too great fo be foridly
taken with little things, and too wiſe and good
to be offended with little things ; and therefore
Religion cannot conſiſt in Njceties and PunCti-
los, as if it was the ſervile flattery of a Tyrant,
and not the ingenuous ſervice of loyal SubjeRs
to 2 brave and gericrous Prince; notwithſtand.

"ing, as I faid before, he hath

The —y —— Will of his own,
Snayeng to and-expects thatſhould be corji:
Fs * plied with, if we ritend to pro-

cure his favour.

' Bioph. But is it not enough that 2 Man live
well and vertuouſly. and ſerve God" devontly ?
Will not that pleaſeand propitiate Him to'us? -

Sebaft. Yes dovbflefs it will, but till you
muſt have arule and ſtandard for al that; other-
wife there will be 'no real differerice' of Vertue
and Vice, nor n0 diftinCtion beret Superdtith-
on and Devotion.

-" Bieph. Now am I in 2 Wikeriies, when
F thought my ſelf even at Candi.

- Sebaſt, Why, what's the matter, Bibi

Could you think that mere g6o4 go0@-weaning, of +
ny kind of blind Devotion would turn?
or that Man might preſcribe to: This Maker what
he ſhould be pleas'd withaſt's - ' .
Boph.

Part IJ. Conference. 99

Bioph. The matter is plainly this; Sebaſtian :
I perceive that if a Man have a mind to be Re-
ligious, he ſhall be at a loſs which way to take;
and what to do ; his own Conſcience, you fay,
is not 2 ſutfieſent Guide for him, becauſe that
may be miſtaken, and therefore he muſt have 4
a, rule ; well; to come by this rule; he muſt (ſay.
yall) ſtudy to. know God's Nature, and that is
not enough, but God hath a Mind and Will of
his own, and that muſt be known tao; and that's
not al] neſther, for he may alter his Mind,
and then we are at a worſe lo than ever: if
therefore this be the ſtate of the. caſe, it is to
- purpoſe to think or talk farther of this buG-
lf , i136 "is .
.-$ebaft. Come, ' cheer up Man, there is ng
danger of all this you dream of, this ſeeming
difficulty will preſeptly clear up, by that time-1T
haye told you, that God's Mind and Nature arg
© entirely the ſame, that whatſoever js agreeable
to hjs Nature cannot be contradited by any AR
of his Will ; and whatſoever is theoxprefs of his
Will, is alſo a trueCopy of his Neture (at leaft
in the general.) And therefore if we perfedtly
uaderfiood the Divine Nature, there would be
na need that he ſhould make any Declaration of
his Wills for then it would he |
the only inſtance of Rehgion The Maſures of
$0 imitate and endeavour to. re- yoyios are partly
ſeipble him, which is thetrueft ,,1 4,00 rg
honour that can be dene- to 7
him, and conſequently could not fail to pleaſe
hip. But now forafmuch as we neither donor
can perfectly underſtand his Nature, becauſe it is
$oq great and too ſublime for us to take a full
view

foo A Winter-Evenme Part [IT.
view of it, therefore it is that we ſtand in need
of the Decliration-of his Will for our guide in:
hs ſervice-: ; |
-Bioph. If this be ſo (as it ſeems reaſ>nable e-
nough) then why did you ſpeak of his Nature in
this caſe, ſeeing rhe buſineſs lies in the ſtudying
of - the Divine Will; at leaſt, if there be any
ſuch thing as a' Declaration of it which may be
come at ? |
: Sebaſt, The reaſon of my making mention
both of the Divine Nature and the Divine Will
to you in this caſe, will become as evident to you
as'any thing we have diſcourled of, by that time
you have'confidered theſe two things :

Firſt, That foraſmuch as natural light (which
is the common'Principle of- Mankind) can make
fome diſcovery of the Nature of God to us, bat
kttle or nothing.of his Will; therefore it is ne-
ceſlary, that ſuch as have not Divine Revelation,
ſhould by-the uſe of Reaſon ſtudy the Divine
Nature for their guidance in the mean time.

'\ Again; fecondly,' It is very conſiderable, that
even thoſe that live under the advantage of Dj-
vine Revelation, may be impoſed upon by coun»
terfeit Oracles, and ſuch as falſly pretend to be
diſcoverers of: the Will of God, if they do not
well ſtudy the Divine Nature, by-the know-
ledge of which they may be able to dete& ſuch
Frauds and Impottures ; for-if a Do&rine be
broached in the World, that 'is contrary to the
natural and reaſonable Notions Men have of
"''-. Denreren,.” G99, although ſuch Dottrine
Py. t, 2,3, &. pretend never fo much to Di-
| - - vinity ; nay, if it ſhould ſeem
to have the fame miraculous Arteſtation to it

thay

Part III. . Conference, 101

that the Goſpel it ſelf hath, we may and ought
fo reject it upon this account, that we are ſure
nothing can come from God which contradifts
himſelf, nor can there be any Declaration of his
Will which is contrary to the known meaſures
of his Nature: and therefore the Nature of
God as well as the Will of God, is to be ftu-
died and attended to as our Rule in this great
affair of Religion.

Bioph. Now I think T underſtand you thus
far; and if I be not miſtaken, then I have two
great things ſtill to ask your aſſiſtance in :
I. That you will help me to underſtand the Dj-
vine Nature. 2. That you will dire&t me how
I may come to the knowledge of his Will, by
which two together I find I muſt be enabled both
to pleaſe him and procure his favour: and, firſt,
I pray explain the Nature of God to me.

Sebaſt. I know you are a wiſer Man than to

from me that I ſhould give you a perfect
Definition of the Divine Majeſty ; for by what
hath been faid already, you cannot but be ſen-
ſible of the vanity and impoſſibility of ſuch an at.
tempt on my part, and conſequently of the ab-
ſurdity of ſuch a demand on yours : but if your
deſire be (as I ſuppoſe it is) that I ſhould repre-
ſent God to you under ſuch Expreſſions as that
we may underſtand one another what we mean
when we ſpeak of him, and alſo may ſufficiently
diſtinguiſh him from all other Beings, then I
doubt not to give you ſatisfaction.

Bioph. Task you no more but
what you promiſe, ſaving that
I expect alſo that your De-

A Deſcription of
the Divine Nature,

ſcription

102 A Winter-Evenpig Part Il.

ſ{ription of him ſhould not only render hitn
fie Object of Religion, but alſo in ſome meafure
a Rule for it too, accorditng to what you taſk
difconrſed. :
Sebaſt. 1 underſtand you, and why may not
theſe fery words fatisfie you, viz. God is an 1t-
fanite and Eternal Spirit. |
Bioph. Ah, Sebaſtian! The words are fery jin-
deed, but they are ſuch as will put youto the ex.
pence of a great many more before I ſhall under-
ftand them ; every word is a Myftery, Spirit,
Eternal, Infinite.
Sebaſt. Be of good conrage, Biophitus, for
though F foretold you we ſhonld never he able
fully to comprehend the Divine Majefty, yet
witha little Patience and Attention you ſhalt tad
thoſe Phrafes very intelligible, and neither to be
Nonſenfe or Gibberiſh , rtor Cramp-words to
conceal a conceited Ignorance under, as your
old Friends the Epicurearisare wont to call them.
Bioph, T confeſs you havenot diſappointed me
hitherto, and therefore I will not deſpair, not
do I intend any longer to _ with you, but
ev learn of yon ; therefore, I pray, in the fitft
' . .. place, tell me plainly and intel-
The wordPSpir] 1;gibly what a Spirit is, and
_— rhing. WhRAt you mean when you fay,
God is a Spirit ?
Sebaf. You may remember, that what you
now dematid was the Snbjett of
F ca :. frow art of our former Conference;
pg 1 #5: wherein indeavoured to fertle
the Notion of a Spirit, and
not only toconvince you of the neceflity of ac-
knowledging fuch a kind of Being, but alfo to
poſleſs

Pare HF. Conference. ' © to;

poſſeſs gou with fome appreherifiotts' of the ta-
ture of it: and therefcre, I hope, I ſhalt not
need to go'over that again. But now; when I
call God a Sptrit, T mean-neither more nor fe
than this, namely, That be is an underſtanding,
free and powerfull Sabſt ance, which yet is not vifible,
wor can falt under the notice of onr bodily Senfes-
this, I take it, is the proper notion of a Spirit,

In the firft place, I call 2 Spirit a Sub@ance,
that you may be fure I mean not a Spedtre or
Fantom (as your Friends ufe to ſafpeft} but
ſomething which is as real as Matter or Body
it If.

And yet, in the fecond place, to diftinguiſh
it from Matter or bodily Subſtance, I fay, it is
not Tifible, nor can fall under the notice of our
bodily Senſes, as that other kind of Subſtance
doth, or at leaft is ſippoſed to do.

And then, in the laft place, to ſhew you that
this is no contradidtion, and to deliver youfrom
the prejudice of Senfe, F reprefent to you the
Effeits and Operations of a Spirit, whichare ſuch
as muſt needs argue it to be a Subſtance, and an
excellent one too; namely, that it hath power to
move the matterwherein it refides, and alſo hath
Underſtanding agd Will or Choice , which
Matter is inca of.

So that look what that thing which we call 2
Soul is im our felves, that doth this notion of Spi-
rit imply God to beto the whole World ; namely,
a8 by that we move our Bodies, and underitand a
reaſon for, and cart give check to our own mott-
on, fo doth God prefide over the World.

Bieph. F acknowledge you have delivered
corffiflent notion of ſuch a thing as —_— _

therefore

1 04 A Winter-Eveninz Part IIE.

therefore I ſeeno impoſſibility that there ſhould
be ſuch a thing. But how doth it appear that
there is really and aCtually ſuch a thing as a Spi-
Tit, or that if there be a God, he muſt needs
be a Spirit ? | |

Sebaſt. The reaſon is very plain by what hath
been faid already, when I proved to you the exi-
ſtence of a God. For there it was confefſed on
both hands, that ſomething muſt be Eternal, or
nothing could have been at all; and then I de-
monſtrated that Matter could not be that Eter-
nal Being, therefore it muſt be Spirit or nothing
that zave Beginning to Things, and conſequent-
ly this thingSpiritis net only a conſiſtent Notion,
but a neceffary Reality, and God is that Spirit.

Beſides, to convince you of this the more ef-
feCtually, let me mind you of what, I think, I
have heretofors obſerved, viz. That we find in
our ſelves ſomething which not only moves and
atts our Bodies, but alſo ſometimes bears hard
againſt them, crofles and controls them in their

Intereſts and Inclinations.

The uſefulneſs of Now ſurely that which doth
poi men rag - ſo, muſt needs be ſomething of
Subſtance. An higher and different nature

from them, and 1s no other

| than that kind of Spiritual Being. which we call

a Soul; and fo you have another and more obvi-

ous Evidence of the actual exiſtence of a Spiri-
tual Subſtance.

Bioph. IT apprehend you, but, I pray, excuſe
me one Queſtion more on this Point, and that
is, What is the importance of this to Religion ?
Or of what influence will the acknowledgment
of God to be a Spirit have upon the ruling and

directing

Pare III. Conference. 105

direfting a Man in his Devotions towards him 2

. Sebaſt. The belief that God is a Spirit is of
very great conſequence to Religion upon ſeve-
ral accounts.

Partly as it obliges us to be very ſincere, hear-
ty and inward in all our Devotions to. him, and
not think to put him off with Out-ſides and
Complements: for ſeeing he & a Spirit, be will
be worſhipped in Spirit and Truth, John. 24.

Partly alſo as it renders it evident to us, that
neither the ſound of Words, nor any peculiar Po-
ſture, Ceremony,or other ſuch like childiſh Trifles
can of themſelves be acceptable to him whois a
great and a wiſe Spirit, no nor yet the Fat of
Beaſts, nor the Odours of ſweet Incenſe, nor
Gold, nor Silver, nor any of thoſe things that
are admiredamongſt Men; but leaſt of all ſuch
ſenſual and laſciviousRites as were in uſeamongſt
the Pagans : for as none of the former can be
ſuitable Oblations to ſuch a pure Being; ſo it is
certain thoſe laſt named can only befit an impure
Spirit, ſuch an one as the Devil is.

- But ptincipally, as it convinces us of the Va-
nity and Impiety of making; Images of God, or
of thinking to do hofiour to him by the ufe of
them in his Worſhip, ſince he being a Spiritual
Subſtance can by no means be repreſented by
them, but muſt needs be debaſed and rendred
much meaner to our thoughts than he is by ſuch
Repreſentations; and therefore we find,that not
only the Holy Scripture in the Books both of
the Old and New Teſtametit, -utterly condemns
ſuch uſages as Idolatrous and abominable tohim z
but we may alſo obſerve that amongſt the Pa-
gans themſelves, all thoſe who arrived at this
| nofion;

106 AA Winter-Evening Part HE

notion, that God was a Spirit, rejeted Image.
Worſhip, and thought that of the Mind and
Spirit to be only acceptable to him.

To all which add, That the belief of the Spi-
ritual Nature of God enables us more eafily to
conceive of the greatneſs of his Power, and that
it is cafe to him to mind and govern the World
without tronble or wearinefs to himſelf, and
with the greater advantage to us. For it is nof
imaginable that a perfectly immaterial Subſtance
ſhould be ſenſible of any lafſitude or decay; and
thus the belief of God's being a Spirit, confirms
our truſt in his Divine Providence which is the
primeSpring and Motive of Devotion.

Bioph. T am abundantly fatisfied that God is
a Spirit, and that he ought to be ſo acknow-
ledged. Now proceed, in the next place, to tell
me what you mean when you ſay he is Eternal.

Sebaſt. By God's being an E-

Of God's Eterni- ternal Spirit, I mean, that as
he — he had no Beginning, ſo he
A e's can have no end of his Being,

and that becauſe {as I ſhewed
you) he is neceſſarily, or could not but be; for
we agreed even now that ſuch an excellency of
Being muſt be allowed to ſomething or other, or
elfe nothing could have been at all, and I made
i plain, that it could not be attributed to the
orld, or any part of it, and therefore muft
be due to God.

Bioph. I ſte I might have ſaved you the
trouble of that Queſtion, yet you will excuſe it,
fince it leads me to another, which I cannot fo
well reſolve without your help, viz. of what
moment is it to Religion whether God be ac-
knoiwIedged to be Eternal or not ? Se-

Bare 1IT. Conference. I 07

Sebaſk. Oh! Of very great moment; for, in
the firſt place, this being acknowledged, we are
thereby aſſured that all the inferiour Gods of
the Gentiles, or whatſoever were either ſuppo-
ſed to be born, or to have a beginning, or to
die, or decline inPower and Divinity, could not:
be Gods, but the Idols of fooliſh and deluded
Men; and at the ſame time weare as certain that
the true God can neither do, nor be capable of
any hurt or detriment, no nor of any change, but
ever remains immutably the ſame. For whatſo-
ever is liable to change, may alſo ceaſe to be. '
Again, Upon the Conſideration of God's E..
ternity depends a great Obligation to Religion,
foraſmuch as by this means he hath it always in
his power to reward or puniſh Men according to
their Demerir, wherein conſiſts a great Secret
of his Providence, namely, the reaſon of his Pa-
tience and Long-ſuffering, that he doth not pre-
ſently. execute vengeance upon wicked Men, nor,
on the other ſide, immediately deliver good
Men out of the troubles and injuries they meet
with in this World, becauſe he hath it always in
his power to do it, and if he do it not in this
World, will-be ſure to do it in the next.

To both which may be added, That although
the Notion of Eternity of time to come be a
great deep into which we cannot look without
Giddineſs and Diſturbance, yet we may be cer-
tain there is ſuch a thing, becauſe we are ſure
that God cannot ceaſe to be, no more than he
began to be; and therefore the ſolicitude which
is in Men about what is to come after their
deaths, is not the effeCt of timidity and weakneſs,
(as you ſometime ſuſpeted) but a rational and

H 2 well-

108 A Winter-Evenng Part III.

well-grounded Prudence, as I then told you.

Bioph But yet there is one very difficult thing
remains to be explained, namely what do you
mean when you fay God is an Infinite Spirit?

| Sebaſt. By that I mean, that
———_ *x- whereas all other Beings (as
of leliondis. Ye well Spiritual as Material )
which are not neceffarily, or

which might not have been, muſt conſequently,
whenſoever they come into Being, depend upon
him, who hath Being in himſelf, and fo be li-
mited and circumſcribed by him; that is, they
can have but only ſuch a certain Portion of Pow-
er, Life and Underſtanding as he hath allotted
them: on the contrary, he that was before all
things, andthe cauſe of all things, and who could
not but be, muſt needs be unlimited in all kind of
Perfeftions, foraſmuch as there was nothing be-
fore him tolimit him, nothing equal to him tori-
val him, nothing after him tointrench upon him,
and conſequently all conceivable Perfettion muſt
be eflentially in him; that is, he muſt be moſt
powerfull, moſt wiſe, moſt juſt and moſt good, & c.

Bioph. I think I need not ask you of what im-
portance this laſt point is to Religion, for (as
dull as I am) Iam aware that this Attribute of
the Deity renders him the Object of our Admi-
ration, Fear, Truſt, and all other inſtances of

- Devotion,

Sebaft. It is very true, Biophilus, and beſides,
by vertue of this Infinity he can: be preſent to all
places to take notice of all Paſſages ; he can eaſily
accompliſh whatſoever he promiſes or threatens;
he can be ſtraitned in nothing, nor need any
thing, having all things in himſelf, and conſe-

quently

Part III. Conference. 109

quently of that, it is impoſſible to conceive of
him as a ſtingy, narrow-hearted Being that can
envy or malign his Creatures, but contrariwiſe,
he muſt be unſpeakably good, and take delight
ia nothing more than in communicating of his
own fulneſs tothem.

But that which I would eſpecially remark, is
this, That a being infinite'in Goodneſs, Wiſ-
dom, &c. as aforeſaid, can never be the Author
of abſurd, or harſh and impoſſible Laws ; for
any ſuch would be a Contradiction to the afore-
named Perfeftions of his Nature : and therefore
as we have upon this account great Obligazions
to ſerve him chearfully ; ſo we may affure our
ſelves that whatſoever pretends to be a Divine
Law, and can be made appear to be inhumane-
ly rigorous, or intolerably difficult to be ob-
ſerved, is either no Law of his, or at the leaſt it
is not rightly interpreted,

And thus, I hope, I have, in ſome meaſure,
explained to youthe Nature of God, and alſo led
you to obſerve the main ſtrokes of Piety, or the
Laws of natural Religion towards him, dedu-
cible from thoſe Principles: and you your ſelf by
attentive Conſideration, may be able to deduce
many others of like nature. What other ſervice
do you now command me ?

Bioph. After hearty thanks, good Sebaſtian,
for the mild and candid treatment you have gj-
ven me all along, which together with that
clearneſs of reaſon which ſhines out in your Dif.
courſe, haye made me perfectly yours, I would
in the next place requeſt of you (if I be not too
importunately troubleſome) that you will in
like manner diſcourſe to = of the Divine Will,

3 as

110 A Winter-Evening Part III.

as you have done of his Nature ; that fo I mily
be more fully inſtrutted in this oreat baſmeſfs.

Sebaſt, I fhall never think it troubleſome, or
anſeaſonable to ferve you in ſuch an affair as this;
but, Biophilus, if we ſhould go no farther, and
that 1 had nothing to ſay coticerning Divine
Revelation, yet you ſee we have enough already
to render Religion not only worthy of a Prudent
Man's care, but to be the moſt reaſonable and
fiecefſary thing in the whole World: fo that A-
theiſm with all its boaſts of Wit and extraordi-
tary Sagacity, arid Scepticiſin too with all its
Caution and Refſervedneſs, are quite beaten out
of the Field..

- Bieph. 1'acknoiledge it, good Sebaſtian, with
each to- God, and Shame enough 'to my
(>

Sebaſt. 'God be thanked for this gentle Thaiy,
and the proſpect we have of a fruitfull Seaſon
after the cold Weather.

Bioph. T obſerve no change in the Air ; but
however, good Sebaſtian, let not the thoughts
of that divert you from what we were up»
on.

Sebaft. Never fear it, Sir, T am mindfull of
you, and glad to ſee you ſo earneſtly inquiſitive
after that you was ſo cold towards, and fo incu-
rious 'of eretofore. But what was you about
to ſay ?

ny I remember you ſaid

|, Covi = that Hhimane 'reaſon was too
DivineWnil ** ſhort tobe a Standard'for God
Almighty, and that if it was

poſlible for us perfectly to underſtand the Divine
Natur (ach we : cannot) yet fince he is a free
Agent,

Part INI. Conference, © 111

Apent, and hath a Mind of his own, and will
not be preſcribed to by us, it is neceffary in or-
ger to the pleaſing and propitiating him towards
our ſelves, that we ſhould ſome way or other
be more particularly. inſtruted concerning his
Will and Pleaſure: now therefore my defire is
(if it be poſſible) to be aſcertained of the Divine
Will, that I may know how to carry my ſelf
agreeably thereunto.

Sebaft. It is a worthy Reſolution of yours,
and-a very noble inquiry that hath taken rife
from thence, and let me add, it is ſuch an in-
quiry as you may juſtly expect Satisfaction in :
for ſince natural reaſon and induſtry cannot give
us ſufficient light-in the caſe, it is not conſiſtent
with the Divine Goodneſs to leave Men defti-
tute of ſome certain way of Information, what
he requires and expetts from them: And that
it is poſſible for God to ſupply that defect of our
underſtanding, there can be no doubt, ſince it
cannot be imagined that Almighty Power and
Wiſdom ſhould ever want means to expreſs his
Senſe to the Sons of Men, or to afſure them
that ſuch is indeed his Mind without all danger
of Impoſtureor Deluſion.

Bioph. But what I now underſtand of the Di-
vine Nature, I cannot but grant 1t very poſſible
for God to do fo; and I infift upon the fitneſs
and reaſonableneſs that ſome ſuch thing ſhould
be done: but I inquire where is it done, and
how may a Man have recourſe to it ?

Sebaſt. Firſt let me ask you what ways are
there imaginable that might give you or any 0-
ther Man Satisfa&tion in this caſe? and what are
thoſe you could think fit for God to make uſe of
to this purpoſe? H 4 Bioph,

112 A Winter-Evenmg Part III.

Bioph. IT could think of ſe-
gis « _- f veral ways whereby God might,
- "9618":" if he pleaſe, make known his

Mind toMen; namely, I doubt
not but he can, if he will, ſpeak from Heaven
im an audible Voice, ſo that we ſhall hear him
as we hear one another; or if he thought good
to condeſcend o far, he could perſonally appear
in the World, and inftruct Men in what he re-
quires of them ; or again, he could ſingly apply
himſelf to particular Perſons, and by ſome ſe-
cret Operations of his, inſtill his Mind into
their Hearts; or to name no more, he could
guide the thoughts and hands of ſome certain
Men, whilſt they committed his Will to Wri-
ting, which ſhould be a Record and Digeſt of
the Divine Laws to all Ages of the World. '

Sebaſt. Very good: Then I hope it will a.
bundantly -ſatisfie you, if I ſhew you that God
hath not only made uſe of ſome one or other of
theſe ways you mention. but hath by all and eve-
ry one of them notified his pleaſure at ſome time
or other to the Sons of Men.

As for inſtance, In the firſt Agesof the World,
before there were any Divine Laws ſettled for
the condutt of Mens Lives, it was not unuſual
with the Divine Majeſty to give' particular In-
timations of his Mind, eſpecially in ſuch caſes
25 the uſe of natural Reaſon could not extend
to; and thoſe that were extraordinary good
Men, had very frequent experience of this in
thoſe ancient times, and even the better ſort of
Heathens were not deſtitute of ſuch ſpecial dif-
coveries of God's Will (amongſt other occaſt-
ons to oy the defects af Humane "Di in

| +4

Part IHI. Conference. 113

Divine things) and there is nothing more known
and acknowledged amongſt them than this.

And then it is alſo certain, that though God
as a Spirit hath properly no Voice of his own,
yet he hath ſevera] times framed a Voice, and
cauſed it to be heard from Heaven as his, the
famous inſtance whereof was at the giving of
Laws to the Jewiſh Nation from Mount Sinai ;
hor have later times (no not amongſt the Pagans
themſelves) been altogether left without ſuch
prodigious diſcoveries of the Divine Will, un-
leſs we call in Queſtion the credit of all their

Writings.
' But for God's condeſcending to come himſelf
into the World, and to inſtruct Men in ſuch
things as are agreeable to his Will, this was
moſt gloriouſly verified in the Converſation of
our Saviour Chriſt Jeſusin Humane Nature up-
on Earth, who had all the atteſtations to his
Divinity that could be deſired, both in the
Wonders of his Birth, the Miracles of his Life,
and the Glories of his Reſurrection, but eſpe-
cially in the frequent and humble Miniſtry of
Angels to him as occaſion ſerved. And he fa-
miliarly and fully interpreted the Mind of God
to Men; and the 'more to awaken the Attenti-
on of Mankind to him, a Voice from Heaven
alſo attended his entrance on this Office, Mar-
thew 3. 17. |

And then in the laſt place, for God's decla-
claring his Mind to us by the Miniſtry of Men,
this he hath abundantly done in the Books of
Holy Scripture, which as they were dictated
by himſelf to thoſe Holy Men that compoſed
them, ſo they have been carefully preſerved by

IS

i114 A Winter-Evenine Part III.

his ſpecial. Providence from the changes and cor-
ruption that al Humane things ate liable to,
that {0 they might convey his Pleaſure to all
Perſons, 'Climates and Ages of the World.

Bioph. But do you mean that:;a Man may
conſult which of theſe Oracles and when he
pleaſes,. for aiReſolution in any matter of diffi-
culty that oceurs 4n the buſineſs of Religion.

Sebaſt. No indeed, - Biophitws, that, you muſt
not expe&; but muſt content your ſelf only with
the laſt of the four, namely, the Holy Scripture,
that is'the ſtanding and hvely Oracle of God, and
more ſure than a Voice from Heaven, Heb. g. 12.
2. Pct. x. 18, 19.

Broph. But may. T not ask, why .might not
ſome of thoſe other! Ieclarations of the Divine
Mind have beer-continued as well as that of the
Scripture, "eſpecially either a Voice from Hea-
ven, or ſome. immediate impreſs of God Al.
mighty upon the-Minds of Men, if it had been
but for the Atteſtation to, and fuller Confirma-.
tion of the Bible, and 'the written way of Di-
vine Revelation 2. -

Sebaſt, Nay, :Biapbilus, we muſt not nsk God
a reaſon of that, but'be thankfull to him for
what he hath afforded us, eſpecially ſince that
is as much as is neceflary for our guidance:
for thoſe that hear wot Moſes und the Prophets,
neither will they hear if one roſe from.the Dead,
Luke 16. 34. much le if they heard @ Voice

fron Heaven.
Nevertheleſs Lmuft tell you,
The reaſon of the 49 not think it altogether

| f oi , :
rag MAY gr ampoſſible to glve A modeſt

ſdecial Oracles. Man more particular Satisfacti-

on

Part IH. Conference. 115

on in this cafe, for there were apparently ſpeci-
al reaſons why 'God ſhould make ſuch ſpecial
and prodigious diſcoveries of himfelf in former
times as he doth-not make now-a-days, namely,
becauſe for & 'good part of the Age of the
World there'was no written Law, and fo'God
muſt apply hifnfelf to Men in ſome extraordina-
ty way, or they wonld have had no Inſtruction
in his Will atall. And then after that the
Law was givenby Voice from Heaven on Mount
Sinaz, and written oh Tables of Stone, it was
in it lf ſo-imperfett a draught of the Divine
Mind, and for the -moſt part ſo accommodated
to the weakneſs of that People, and ro the in-
fancy of the World, that it would have been
hard to hive kept a Man of any Sapacity in a
conſtant'belief of it as coming from God, if he
had not continually and from time'to time made
prodigious Atteſtations to it : But now eſpe-
cially ſince'our Saviour came -into:'the World,
and we have the Books of the New Teſtamert,
as well as of the Old, there is fo full a Decha-
ration -of 'the Divine Mind, 'and that not in
Types and Figures neither, but in fo plain a
way, and with ſo much agreeableneſs of 'the
things diſcoyered to 'the reaſon of Mankind ;
that there -is no riced of any fecondary Atteſta..
tion, nor any thing more than that it appears
that thoſe Writings were indited by God.
Befides, it 15 to be conſidered that the way of
giving atiſwer by a Voice from Heaven, unleſs
it had been- gratited to every Man (and then it
muſt have been done almoſt every day and hour,
and in every part of the World alſo) could not
have given better. fatisfation/to the generality

116 A Wiiter-Evening Part lll.

of Men (I mean to ſuch as were not Ear-wit-
nefſes of ſuch a Voice) than this way of Scrip-
ture doth : for without infinite and continual
Miracles, it muſt have been their lot and duty
to believe without hearing ſuch a Voice.

And for that other way of ſecret intimation
of God's Mind to the Minds of Men by a pri-
yvate- and particular Oracle, it is plain that it
could go no farther than to ſatisfie that particu-
lar Perſon to whom ſuch anſwer was given; and
therefore was only fit - to be made uſe of in ex-
traordinary caſes, and upon ſome extraordinary
Perſons, and even then there was need of ſome
Miracle to attend ſuch intimations, in order to
the ſecuring the Minds of ſuch Men from the
delufions of the Devil, or their own Fancies :
and when that was done, this diſcovery could
go no farther than the Perſon. to whom it was
particularly made; for it was like the white ſtove
which no man kiew but te that received it,
Rev. 2 17. The reſt of Mankind could have
no other advantage by it, nor be better ſecured
of the Oracle, than we are of what we learn by-
the Holy Scripture, no nor ſo well neither, as
you will fee by and by, if you pleaſe

Bioph. With all my Heart, for that is the
very point I defire to be reſolved in ; but in or-
der thereto, firſt, let me intreat you to explain
what you mean by this way of Divine Legiſla-
tion, or this way of delivering the Will of God
by the Writings of the Holy Scripture.

"ELD , _ Sebaſt. The way is this :
GP; inn Divine Wiſdom reſolving to
'y Goa s matting : : .
rhe Holy Scripture, give a ſtanding Law and Guide
ond t/:; reaſouazle- t9 Mankind, ip the firſt plage,
neſs of it. inſpired

Part III, Conference. 117

inſpired certain Holy Men, that is, made clear
Impreſſions of his own Sentiments upon their
Minds, and then alſo guided and governed them
in the writing and-publiſhing the aforeſajd Im-
preſſions for the uſe of others,

That it is eafie for God Almighty to imprint
his own ſenſe upon the Minds of ſuch Men as
he ſhall chuſe for that purpoſe, you cannot
doubt when you conſider that Power of his
which he deſplayed in the Creation, and that
therefore the Minds of Men muſt needs be iz his
hands, as clay in the hands of the potter, ſo that
he can mould and figure them as he pleaſes.

That he can give aſſurance to the Minds of
ſuch Men, that it is he himſelf that makes thoſe
Impreſſions upon them, and no other Agent,
you have acknowledged already ; and there can
be no more cauſe to doubt It, than you have,
whether it be I that ſpeak to you, or a Spirit
out of the Wall: for certainly God hath ways
enough to diſtinguiſh himſelf and his Motions
from Illuſions.

That alfo he ſhould be able
to guide and govern thoſe Ho- = wo Serie
ly Pen-men in the writing of perm py of
what he himſelf bad put into 721 Reaſon, £
their Minds, and in delivering
his ſenſe ſo fully and clearly as to anſwer his end,
and become a ſufficient Rule for Men to-govern
themſelves by, muſt be granted, or you make
him more impotent than'a Man.

Laſtly, That he could by his Providence pre-
ſerve the Books ſo written from being imbezell'd
or corrupted, that ſo they may anſwer the ends
aforeſaid, cannot be denied without denying his

Providence,

118 A Winter-Evenmg Paxst III.
Providence, and ſubverting the Foundation of
Religion. = | IR
So that in ſumm, this way of the Holy Scrip-
ture muſt needs be a very ſufficient way of Di-
vine Legiſlation, and an abundant ſupply of the
Defects of Natural Reaſon in Divine Things.
Bioph. 1 grant all you have hitherto faid,
which amounts to no more but this, That it is
not impoſſible for God to do ſo; but now the
queſtion is, How ſhall it appear that (de fa#o)
he hath done? or (which amounts to the fame
thing) how do you prove that thoſe Books
(commonly eall'd the Bible) are indeed what
they pretend to be? |
Sebaſt. There lies the pinch of the bulineſs in-
deed, as you well obſerve; and therefore, in
order to your full ſatisfaCtion in that point, let
me defire you to lay together the four following
Particulars. |
Firſt, it cannot be denied
The proof of the but that the Books of Holy
ergermy | 6 4 A Scriptureare (atleaſt general-
Parkrony ” ly ſpeaking) the moſt Anci-
| ent Monuments in the whole
World. Wherefore, beſides the Veneration
which we commonly allow to Antiquity, it 1s.
apparent that they have indured the teſt of all
times paſt, and that all the Wit of Man hath
not been able hitherto to find any confiderable
flaw in them, and conſequently their Authority
and Credibility is ſo much greater than any 0-
ther Books, by how mueh the time is longer
ſince they were written and publiſhed; for there -
have not been wanting thoſe that have endea-
youred to expoſe them, and if they had =
able

Part HI. Conference. | 119

able. to havedone it, doubtleſs long ere this time,
thefe Books had loſt all their Veneration : But
fince they till retain their Dignity and Eſteem
(notwithſtanding all efforts of their Enemies to
the contrary) there is graund enough to be.
lieve they never ſhall be able to do it, and con-
ſequently that there can be no reaſonable Suſpt-
cion of the truth of them.

To which may be added, That ſince Divine
Providence hath alſo fo long preſerved and
watched over theſe Writings, it is very natural
to collect that therefore they are ſuch as he pe-
culiarly owns and recommends to us.

Secondly, It is to be conſidered that the Do-
Atrine of theſe Books is perfetly agreeable to
the natural Notions we have of God, and there-
fore being fit for him to be the Author of, they
muſt conſequently be fit for us to entertain, as
coming from him, at leaſt upon reaſonable evi-
dence of fat that they did fo.

If indeed any Man could juſtly charge theſe
Writings as containing any thing abſurd or im-

offible, or make appear that they countenanced
uch things as are diſagreeable to what we na-
turally know of God, or can diſcern to be in
him by the beſt improvement of our Under-
ſtanding : Then (as I have granted before) we
could not be bound to believe them, although
they ſhould be ſuppoſed to have all the Confir-
mation imaginable; for no Man can believe
what he will, nor be obliged to a&t contrary to
the natural Senſe and Principles of his Mind,
upon any Authority whatſoever,

But whenſoever a Doftrine is propounded
that is reaſonable in it ſelf, and beſides hath rea-

ſonable

120 Af Winter-Evening Part I IE;

ſonable evidence that it came from God, and
is part of his revealed Will, then it is highly
reaſonable that we ſhould receive it as ſuch, not-
withſtanding ſome trifling Objectiofis which may
be to the contrary. re IT

Thirdly, It is eſpecially to be minded that
the Doctrine of the Holy Scripture hath not
wanted ſuch ſpecial aſſurances that it came from
God, as were fit: for him to give, or for Mer
to expect. For all thoſe Holy Men that delive-
ted any part of it to the World, were abetted by
Miracles wrought for the Confirmation of what
they ſo delivered : fo that either God Almighty
mult be ſuppoſed to ſet the. Seal of his Omni-
potency to a Falſhood, or elſe theſe Do#trines
are the diſcoveries of the Mind of God.

Now that there -was ſuch miraculous proof,
we may be afſured in the general by this Conſj-
deration, that it is not imaginable that ſuch
+ Doctrine and ſuch Books ſhould have obtained
that credit in the times when they were ſt or
foot, without ſuch Confirmation , eſpecially
ſince the matter of thoſe Writings in a great
part was ſo very different from the Notions, and
Prattices, and Intereſts of rhoſe Ages and Per-
ſons to whom they were publiſhed. © Inſo-
* much that (as a great Man faid of 01d) © to
&* ſuppoſe the World to be brought to the re-
© ception of theſe DoCtrines without a Miracle,
« might juſily ſeen the greateſt Miracle that e-
& ver Was. | |

And in particular, that the Books of the Old
Teſtament had ſuch Divine Atteſtation, the ve-
ry Books themſelves frequently appeal to, or.at

leaſt give us the Hiſtory of ſuch things of
n ;

Part III. Conference. 121

kind as could neither be withſtood and denied
by the Men of the preſent Age when they were
done, nor confuted by thoſe that came after ;
beſides the famous Spirit of Prophecy, which
diſplayed it felf all along thoſe times (of which
more by and by.)

And then for the New Teſtament, beſides all
the Miracles wrought by our Saviour and his
Apoſtles, that one of his ReſurreCtion was a
thing both ſo notorious to be obſerved, and fo
eaſie to have been confuted if it had been falſe,
that there is no colour of reaſon to doubt of it,
and conſequently none to doubt of his Doctrine :
and then in the Apoſtles times, that miraculous
ability of ſpeaking with all kind of Tongues,
which was ſuddenly beſtowed upon the Chriſti-
ans on the famous days of Pentecoſt, A. c. 2.
v. 1.wasa thing equally ſtupendous in it ſelf, and
irrefragable in its Evidence of the Chriſtian Re-
ligion,

Now I have ſhewed you: before, that what-
ſoever point hath been once ſufficiently proved,
it muſt be true. for ever, and there can be no
reaſon to expeR after Miracles for Confirmati-
on of it. *

Laſtly, it is obſervable that the ſeveral parts
of Holy Scripture, I mean the Books of the
Old and New Teſtament, (as they are uſually
diſtinguiſhed) do, like a pair of Indentures, ju-
ſtifie one another, and aſſure us thar there can
be no fraud nor forgery in either of them ; for
beſides that, they bearing witneſs to one ano-
ther, one of them cannot be falſe, unleſs the 0-
ther be ſo too; and if either of them be proved
by Articles, the other would be fully aſſured by

I the

i122 A Winter Evenmg Part II.

the fame means, atthough it had no Miracles
peculiar to it ſelf,

Beſides this I ſay, it is in the firft place, cer-
tain that thefe ſeveral Books, or Parts of Holy
Scripture were written and publiſhed jn feveral
Ages of the World which were very remote
from each other, and conſequently by fach Men
as could poſſibly hold no correſpondence or con-
federacy with each other.

And then again, ſecondly, it is as plain alfo
that (for inftance} the Old Teſtament foretels,
many Ages before, what things ſhould come
to paſs many Apes after ; wherefore if thofe
ehings come to paſs accordingly, there can be
no doubt but God inſpired thoſe Men that pro-
pheſied thoſethings : and if the New Teſtament,
on the other fide, contain a Relarion of ſich
Events as fully anſwer to thoſe Predictions, then
areboth of them moft certamly true.

And now laying theſe four things together,
and only ſetting atide the demand of prefent
and daily Miractes, which I heve fhewed to be
unreaſonable to expect, I pray tell me, Brophr-
ts, what farther evidence can any ingenuous
Man require in ſuch a caſe as this is ?

'Buioph. To ſpeak the truth from my Heart, I
cannot tell.

Sebaſt, Why then T hope, Brophilus, you
think your feff now concerned in thofe facred
Records, and for the time to come will make
them a principal part of your ftudy, cfpeciall
the New Teſtament. 6 AP

Broph, 1 plainly fee T ought to do fo ; but
why do you lay the Emphafis eſpeciaily on the
New Teftament?

| Sebaſt.

Patt III. Conference. 123

Sebaft. For no leſs reaſon than becauſe that
_ of Holy Scripture contains the cleareſt and
ulleft diſcovery of the Mind of God, as being
the ultimate and moſt perfe&t Declaration of
himſelf, made by the very Son of God in hu-
mane Nature.

Biopb. I am hitherto an utter ſtranger to the
Contents of thoſe Books; (to my ſhame be it
ſpoken) I pray therefore, give me in ſhort the
pa » them. FN:

Sebaſt, Nay, for that you |
muſt excuſe me, and let me by Pugh Ll ay
all means adviſe you to ſtudy ;
the Books themſelves, they are eaſje to be had,
and I canafſure you, you will receive greater Sa-
tisfaction, and profit more by that courſe, than
by any Epitome I can make of them.

Bioph. Nay, good Sebaſtian, it is not my In-
tention to decline the reading of the New Te-
ſtament, but you perceive [ have loſt too much
time already, therefore let me again requeſt you
to give me (at leaſt) a compendious view of the
principal things contained in theſe Writings.

Sebaſt. Since you will have it fo, I comply
with your deſires, and as far as I can compre-
hend ſo great and weighty a Subject, and fo full
a Writing in my Mind; I muſt tell you, The
New Teſtament principally conſiſts of thefe three
things.

Firſt, an exa&t and excellent rule of Holy
Living, by conforming our ſelves to which, we
ſhall moſt certainly pleaſe God, and moſt effe-
Ctually procure his Favour.

Secondly, The moſt powerfull and effeftual
motives to proyoke us to an uniform and tho-

I 2 rouvghi

124 , A Winter-Evening Part III.

rough compliance with the aforeſaid Rule.

Thirdly, The moſt proper: means and aſſiſtan-
ces to that end, that ſo we may not only be in-
couraged to undertake, but inabled to accom-
pliſh that Holy courſe which js propounded and
preſcribed.

This (I take it) is a Summary of the whole
Goſpel, at leaſt (as I faid) the principal Con-
tents of it,

For by the firſt of theſe Particulars we have
a Law given us to guide our. Conſciences, and
a generous Model or Deſign of railing and im-
proving the ſtate of Mankind.

By the ſecond our AffeCtionsare inflamed, and
our endeavours encouraged proportionably to
the deſign aforeſaid, and by the laſt particular
our infirmities are relieved, and we are affured
of attaining that glorious Deſiga if we be not
wanting to our ſelves.

Bioph. 1 wonder in my heart what made you
ſo unwilling to gratitie this requeſt of mine ;
by this little glimpſe which you have now af.
forded me, I ſee-plainly that thoſe Books con-
tain a very admirable Inſtitution, unleſs it be
that you have ſome firange art in repreſenting
things, and raiſing ones Opinion

Sebaſt. No, aflure your felf, Biophilus, there
is no art in the caſe, but the mere excellency of
Chriſtianity appearing in irs genuine Colours, as
you will be more throughly convinced when
you have ſtudied it well, and eſpecially have
made experiment of it in prattice.

Bioph, As cold and diftident as my temper
hath been hitherto, I am now on the ſudden
inflamed, and I am inamoured on this Idea of

| Religion

Part III. Conference. 125

Religion you ſpeak. of : pray |
therefore explain theſe things ng Ln
more fully to me ; and firſt I j;,,,, _
defire to know more particu-

larly what the peculiar Laws and Rules of this
Inſtitution are.

Sebaſt. For that, Biophilus, you muſt know,
that this Inſtitution of the Goſpel, being (as I
faid | the laſt and ultimate Revelation of the Di-
vine Will, muſt conſequently be more exact and
perfet than any other; yet notwithſtanding it
1s not deſtruttive, but only perfe&tive of thoſe
that went before it : and therefore, as it con-
tradifts no former Prophecy or Revelation of
God's Will; fo it repeals no Law of Nature or
Reaſon, derogates from no Rule of Piety, Gra-
titude, Civility or Humanity, but only adds to
them and improves them; for ſo our Saviour
himſelf hath told us, He came not to deſtroy the
Law or the Prophets, but to fulfill them. Matth,
5. I7. So that indeed the Chriſtian Inſtituti-
on is a pandeCt or digeſt uf all that is grave, de-
cent, prudent, vertuous or praiſe. worthy, Phil. 4, 8,
all which things it not only re-inforces by more
powerfull Arguments (as I will ſhew you by
and by) but requires every of them in greater
Perfeftion. But now the Supplement or Ad-
dition it makes to, all thoſe, is that which is to
be called the peculiar Chara er of thisReligion,
and that, I think, may be reduced to theſe three
Heads. | | =
Firſt, it injoins a more excellent and ſpiritual
Worſhip of Gad...,., _

Secondly, A. more refined Purity of Heart

and Life, | pr NE
= I 3 Thirdly,

126 A Winter-Evening Part III.

Thirdly, A. more noble, generous, and diffu-
ſive Charity. _ | HH
1. The Goſpel preſcribes a more Spiritual
Worſhip than was in uſe in the World before ;
for our Saviour exprefly affirms,The time now comes
when the true worſhippers ſhall worſhip the father
# ſpirit ard truth;. and gives the reaſon, becauſe
God is a Spirit, &c. Joh. 4. 234, 24. It is true,
a I" —_ : yo Fg it
e Spiritual 15 impoſſible he fhould ever
wa jap a4 have been otherwiſe (as I have
hu yy ſhown pou before) but his
Spiritual Nature was not fo
well underſtood hererofore, whilt he was wont
to reprefent himſelf by Fire, or in humane ſhape
amongſt Men: and whilſt he required to have
4 Temple built for his reſidence, as if he requi-
red an External State of Grandeur or bodily ac-
commodation; and laſtly, whilſt he require
Sacrifices and Oblations to :be tmade to him of
ſuch things as are of vatte amongſt Men; as if
he was 4 neceffitons Deity, and uſed to cat and
drifk 48 his Worſhippers 'do. But now, ſince
he hath given proof of his mighty Majeſty,
without thoſe vitble appearances, and the Sons
of Men re better inftrutted that he is a pure
Spirit without all mixtore. of Matter, and inft-
nitely full, perfect and happy m himfelf, with-
outany Acceſſion of other thingsto him: Hetice-
forth he will not be worſhipped with the ſteayis-
of Blood and Fat, nor pleaſed with ctond$'sf
Incenfe, Var with hedrty Attations , with
raiſed AffeCtions, with the Cotitemplations 'of
pure Minds, with inward Reverence and Ad-
miratian of him, with devout Prayers and _
5.8 4 *« > . 0 <Y--- : | : . I

Part LI. Conference, © 127

ſes offered to him, with Love, with Truft and
Confidence in him, and endeavours of conform-
ing our ſelves to him; This is the Worthip
that is ſuitable to a good, an happy, and a ſpi-
ritual Being, yet not excluding bodily Exprefl}-
ons of Reyerence neither, but as principally re-
quiring the former, and making this latter only
the accefiary and effe& of that. g
2. The Goſpel-requires a ;

more refined Temper of Heart P19 of Heart i;
and Life than was uſually pra- — fret
Etiſed, or eaſie to be arrived at Chrifiomry.
before; namely, it preſcribes
toour inward Man as well as our outward ARti-
ons, and that our Hearts be pure.as well -as
pur bodily Members; that our Reaſon have
the maſtery of our Luſts and Paſſhons, fo that
we neither indulge our ſenſuality in the intem>»
perate uſe of Pleaſure, nor live as if wo wete
born to eat and drink, but be in forme meaſure
above the -guſto and reliſh of bodily entertain-
ments; that we ſubdue our Paſſions and Incli-
vations to” A = — and (var abore
the tempeſt of this World, fo as todefpiſe the
wind cares nad fears, and ſolicitudes — inn
Kt Life, 11d enjoy our vesin a kind'of Di-
wire Tranquility and Security. |

"The generality - of Mankind, both. Jews and
Papans, thought it a mighty fdlicity' £6 hoard
vp Riches;x0 griſp Civil Powera ravithing thing
to Fvim in! {knaſtal Pleaſires, and' nothing ws
counted either more fiveet'or more brave than to
wvenge'a Man's RIf when hethoughtihe was af-
Frohted; biff s'the Glory of all theſe things is

| 4 of

hh

128 A Winter-Evening Part III.

of them are tobe mortified by the Laws of Chri-
ſtianity ; the Mind is to be freed of theſe ſordid
entertainments, and to be taken up with more
pure and ſpiritual Delights, with -intelleQual
Pleaſures, with the treaſures of -Wiſdom and
Knowledge, with the Glory of, Conqueſt (not
over other Men, but) over our felves, our bru-
tal Luſts, with the Joys of God's Favour, and
the peace of our own Conſcience.

ITY 3- And laſtly, This Reli-
- Univerſal Chari- gjon requires a larger Spirit,
7 fag r= and a more noble. and diffuſive
an Religion. of Charity:than agrees with the
* .{ ©»4:%4.2 : comfnon- ;Standard of the
World, -or- than was preſcribed by' any other
Religion; . The Charity of a Pagan commonly
extended no farther than hisFamily and Friends,
or at mbſt to. his own City and Country ;
and that of the Jews to their own Nation and
Religion-only :-but to love their. Enemies was
by both of them look'd upon as ſo far from ne-
ceflary,. that-.it-was thought impoſſible and ab-
ſurd. . Whereas this Inſtitution requires us to
love out-very Enemies, and thoſe that mortally
hate us;i to-renger' good for evil; toembrace all

_ the World in-our Affettions.z to look upon all

Mankind as our Brethren; the Ghildren of one
common Parent; ..that there. be no Men fo filly

EF
:
-—

'or peeniſh; ſo mean and cor;temptible, or ſo re-

mote from us in Blood, ' Countrey, Manners or

- Opinion; butwe be ready'to do all good Offices

towards them -to oblige them by kjndneſs; and
to conquer: ang. over-power them by; real inſtan-
ces of good Will and indearing; Carriage. [This
(asI take it) is the Summ of the Chriſtian Lan,
an

Part III. Conference. 129

and the peculiar Charatter of that Religion, at
leaſt, ſo far as concerns the rule of living.

Bioph. You have thus far, I confeſs, deſcrib-
ed a very brave Inſtitution, but ſure all this is.
only matter of ſpeculation, or at moſt a draught
of ſome Monaſtick Order ; it is poſſible perhaps
in their retired way of living (where they are
free from the temptations and provocations that
are incident to other Men) ſomething at this
rate may be pretended to, or at leaſt dreamed
of, but ſure theſe Laws are too ſtrift to be pra-
Qicable, or indeed poſſible to the generality of
Mankind, and then according to your own rule
they cannot come from God, who muſt be ſup-
poſed ſo wiſe as to know what Men are capable
of performing, and to be too juſt ro require im»
poſſibilities.

Sebaſt, You will better judge of that matter
by and by, when you have ccnlidered the Mo-
tives and Afffſtances this Religion affords, as
well as the Rules it-preſcribes: for you know
that things of this nature are difficult or eafje in
proportion to the incouragements to undertake
and conflict with them. Great rewards raiſe
great Spirits, and you can never tell what any
Man will come to, till you underſtand what In-
ducements and Motives he ſhall be acted by :
now by that time you have heard what remains
to be ſaid concerning the Chriſtian Religion, I
do not. doubt but you will pronounce it to be
every whit as fecible in praCtice as noble in ſpe-
culation.

_ Bioph. You ſay 'right ; for 7he peculiar Mo-
God's fake therefore go on, . "ve "Frhe a
and jn the next place repre- "9 Oe Pole

ſent

tzo £4 Winter-Evenins Part [II.

{nt to me the inducements the Goſpel affords
a Man to live at ſuch a rate as you have ſpo-
ken of.

Sebaſt. Why then, the ſecond thing remark-
able in the Goſpel is, the powerfull Motives it
rakes uſe of to provoke Men to an uniform
compliance with its Laws, and they are efpeci-
ally theſe three.

irſt, It charms Men by a lively draught of
the Divine Goodneſs.

Secondly, It provokes them by the Example
of our Saviour.

Thirdly, It inffames them by the promiſe of

Eterfal Lift.
r. The Goſpel makes ſolive-
h pr Fae _ ly a pon py of the Di-
us re Drume 09a vine Goodneſs and Clemency,
=. ray by eſpecially in the free Pardon
che Goſpel, and total Abolition of all Sin
palt (upon Condition of a ge-
nerons Picty and Vettue for the time to come)
that it powerfully works upan Mens ingerwity,
and metts them into a compliance with the moſt
difficult rerms that fuch Goodneſs can be capa-

be of propounding to them and requiring of
them. Do/but think with your KIf, if you Had

fo faroffended your Princeandviolated the Laws
of your Country, that Majeſty was exaſperated,
and Juſtice armed with Rverity againſt you, fb
that-you was under a terrible'Sentence, and ex
pected a ſpeedy Execution; now in this caſe if
notwithſtanding your Prince ſhould condeſbend
to make you an offer of Pardon ard full reftitu-
tion toyour former capacity, uporrcertain teritts;
Would not you (1 fay) be willing to'enter up=

| + a Jus che bndrga bs

Part INI. Conference. * 131

on a very difficult Service, ard undertake the
moſt hazardous Enterprize? Would you then
be nice and captious, or ſtand carping and capt=
tulating ? Nay, would you not be inflamed with
Reſolution , ſpirited by Gratitude, and find
your ſelf to become more than your felf, in ſuch
an undertaking ?

Now this is the caſe, BophiJus : we havein-
finitely offended Almighty God in the whole
courſe of our Lives, and fo are juſtly fallen un-
der his Diſpleaſure, informuch that a Sentence
of Eternal Death is paſs'd againſt us ; notwith-
ſtanding, in the Goſpel an Overture of Recon-
ciliation is made, and upon thoſe terms I men-
tioned even now, he offers to receive us into Fa+
your, that all our Sins, how many and great ſo-
ever, ſhall be blotted out, and never come iti
remembrance again; the Sentence ſhall be
revoked ; we ſhall never be upbraided with out
Follies; no cloud ſhall hang over us; no ill
CharaQter be upon us; but our Conſciences ſhall
be quiet, and God Almighty will everlaſtingl
ſhine upon us. Now can any Man in this nt
expoſtulate the terms with God Almighty ? Can
he find in his Heart to complainof the trouble
of his Service, the difficulty of a Self-denial, or
think it hard to be obliged to forgive other
Men vp6n condition of God's forgiving him ?
No ſurely : he will heartily embrace the Propo-
fitions ; he will love and thank God with all hs
Sout, and rejoice im difficulty it If, that he may

ive proof of his gratitude, and be only ſorry
that he can give no better evidence of it: in a
word, he will be inflamed in his Reſolutions,
and winged ih his efdeayours of ſerving and
[04 <4 SON FE | pleaſing

72: I Winter-Evenins Part III.

pleaſing ſuch a God : a God of Mercy, rich in
Mercy and Goodneſs, pardoning Iniquity, Tranſ-
greſjion and Sin; forgiving old and great and the
moſt diſ-ingenuous Sinners,

Bioph. Oh ! Sebaſtian, you break my Heart:
enough, enotigh; I cannot forbear ——

Sebaſt. The ſecond Motive

The Example 9 of the Goſpel is the Example
Geſpel-morive, = Of our Saviour himſelf: thisit

ſets before us, and. by this it
provokes us to compliance with the Laws afore-
faid. Thac he was the very Son of God, rhe
Brightneſs of his Glory, and the expreſs Cha-
ratter of his Majeſty,” Heb. 1. 2. T have intima-
ted before, and all the miraculous Glories of
his Birth, Life, ReſurreQion and Aſceniion to
Heaven have abundantly demonſtrated it; now
that He ſhould come down from- Heaven to
Farth, and there frame himſelf to an exact con.
formity to the aforeſaid Laws.of the Goſpel, is
not a greater inſtance of his admirable Self-hu.
miliation than of the incomparable Excellency,
Wiſdom and Goodneſs of thoſe Laws, in that
they are ſuch as God himſelf thought fit to be
Jubje&t to them himſelf, as well as to recom-
mend them to us, EN;

For now certainly no Man can be fo prodi-
giouſly abſurd, as. to account it. a mean-drudge-
ry to be conyerfant in that way of worſhipping
.God which the 'Goſpel - teaches, ſeeing Chriſt
Jeſus himſelf. made it not only his buſineſs but
his delight: :. ; |

No Man ſurely. can think himſelf hardly uſed,
if he be a lictle reſtrained in the uſe of bodily
Pleaſures, ſince the Son of God, when he

Wa$

Part III. Conference. 132

was in Humane Fleſh, diſdained them.

No Man can be ſo fond as to admire Riches,
and Honours, and the Preferments of this
World, which our Saviour could have had in
the greateſt meaſure that is imaginable, if he
had not deſpiſed them: no Man can bet ſo mad-
ly paſſionate, as to think that to revenge him-
ſelf isa great point of Glory, and that it is un-
manly to omit it, when he obſerves the Son of
God, who could have done it effeCtually, in-
ſtead thereof, only praying for his Enemies :
nor can any man be ſo mean-ſpirited as either to
be vainly puffed up with Proſperity, or ſink un-
der Adverſity, Reproach, or the deepeſt Con-
tempt imaginable, that ſees the Son of God to
be the pooreſt, meaneſt, and moſt ignominiouſly
treated of all Men.

Beſides, it is farther conſidered that there is
no colour for any Man to pretend an impoſlibi-
lity of the thing, or impotency in himſelf to
perform any of the forementioned, or any other
duty of Chriſtianity, ſince our Saviour perform-
ed them all in Humane Nature, wherein he was
ſubje&t to the ſame infirmities,affaulted with the
fame temptations, and preſſed with the ſame ne-
ceſſities that we are; he had the ſame Fleſh and
Blood, ſclt the fame pains, was hungry, thirſty
and weary, as we are, and ſo there is no excuſe
to be made in our caſe that would not have been
as reaſonable in his.

Now all this conſidered (together with the
mighty power of example in general, as that it
takes away the pretence of Ignorance, baffles
the Plea of Impotency, ſhames Cowardice, and
kindles Emulation) cannot but have the force

of

i134 4 Winter-Evening Parc ITE
of a mighty Motive, and prevail upon all in-
penuous Perſons to caſt away every weight and
the ſin that beſets them, and to run with Pationce
and Courage the Race ſet before them, Heb. 12.1.

4. But the third and moſt

The promiſeof e- powerfull Motive of the Go-
ternal life the pri ſpel is yet behind, and that is
= 4 f *he the promiſe of Eternal Life to

I all thoſe that frame themſelves
by the Rules aforeſaid. And that whereas the
beſt that other Men can hope for, is, to rot in
their Graves, and everlaſtingly to be forgotten
{but that will not ſerve their turn, for they
ſhall certainly ſuffer the vengeance of Eternal
Fire;) Thoſe, on the contrary, that live by the
Laws of the Goſpel, ſhall be raifed again out
of the Duſt, and out-live the very Heavens in
unfpeakable and endleſs Felicity.

That this is not a Dream, but a real Truth
you may be thus aſſured. Firſt, For the poſſi-
bility of it, becauſe I have ſhewed you already
that God is a neceflary Being, and muſt live for
ever ; and therefore he that had it in his power
to make things out of nothing, cannot want a-
bility to preſerve ſuch things in being as it pleaſ-
eth him. And then, Secondly, That he will
do fo, is the great promiſe of the Goſpel, which
he delivered by his own Son, and whereof he
bath given aſſurance in that be raiſed him from
the Dead, Aft. 17.37. |

Now, Biophitus, this is ſuch a thing, this Lj-
ving for ever, I fay, is ſuch a Motive, that it is
able to make a Man to defie all difficulty fo far
as even to be inflamed the more by the appre-
henſjon of it, and to ſtick at nothing but flat

impoſhbility

Part INI. Conference. 125

impoſſibility ; but never any Man yet had the
folly to object that in the caſe : it may be ſaid
to be difficult to maintain a conſtant attendance
upon God's Worſhip, a little uneaſte to deny
our preſent delight and pleafure, ſomething a-
gainſt the Grain to ſtifle our paſſions, and to lay
aſide revenge; but neverany body faid or thought
any of them to be abſolutely impoſſible.

For it is plain in experience that many Men
have undergone greater hardſhips, than any are
required in the Goſpel, either to demonſtrate
their Love, or to purſue their Paſhon; in com-
pliance with their Fears, or for the ſake of
their Intereſts; ſometimes out of Flattery, and
ſometimes out of mere Reverence of ſome Per-
fon ; but at any time for ſelf-ſecurity and pre-
ſervation: Now whatſoever may be done upon
thoſe inconfiderable grounds, moft certainly can-
not be impoſſible to be done when Eternal Life
is at ftake: and this being, as I have ſaid,
plainly propounded in the Goſpel as the great

ager to him that runs that Race, and with-
all being impoſſible to be obtained upon any. 0-
ther terms, muſt needs make the Yoke of Chrift
ſeem (at leaft comparatively) eafie, and hrs Buy-
then light, Matt. 11. 30. And fo much for
the ſecond principal point of Chriftianity.

Bioph, Now, Sebaſtian, you have increaſed
my wonder more than ever, though, I muſt
confeſs, you have tranſlated it to another fub..
je; foraſmuch as whereas I ſuſpefted before
the poſſibility of complying with thoſe (tri
Laws of the Goſpel, now Iam as much amazed
that any body ſhould complain of difficulty in
them, thoſe things conſidered which you have
laſt repreſented. Sebaſt.,

1 36 A Winter-Evenms Part Ill.

Sebaſt. God be thanked for that change, Bio-
philus, but your wonder of the ſecond ſort will
be yet heightened, when you conſider alſo the
aſſiſtances that the Goſpel affords us towards
the performance of what it requires, which is
the third and laſt of thoſe things whereby I de.
ſigned to repreſent the ſumm of it to you; and
(to be ſhort, that conſiſts principally in theſe
two things.

p 1, The 07 gong

The Aſjiſtances co-operation ;
and Helps which Soirit. a Holy
—_— <= = 2. The outward advantages
forming of its Laws, Of the Society of his Church.
Firſt, che co-opera= - Firſt, He that by his Son
tio of the Holy hath required ſuch things of
ESE us as the aforeſaid , namely,
Spiritual Worſhip, Purity of Heart, and uni-
verſal Charity, hath alſo promiſed by his Divine
Power to co-operate with us in the diſcharge
of them, and then there can be no ſuch thing
as impoſſibility, nor ſcarcely ſo much as difficul-
ty in the caſe: for what is impoſſible to Al-
mighty Power? Or what burthen can there
be to complain of, when we have ſuch an
helper ?

But the meaning of this is not, that God
will do all for us without us, ſo as that we ſhall
be only paſſive, and recipients of his Impreſſi-
ons, as ſome have very abſurdly fanſied : for
then all the as of Piety and Vertue would be
more properly God's Acts than ours, and could
be capable of no praiſe or reward as proceeding
from us : and beſides, this could not be called
Divine Aſſiſtance, but his Creation rather, ſince

n

Part INI: Conference. 137
in ſuch an exertion of his own Omnipotency,
he did wholly over-bear or fuperſede our en-
deavours.

But the meaning is this, That whenſbever a-
ny Man (in Contemplation of the Motives and
Incouragements aforeſaid) ſets himſelf in car-
heſt to comply with that which God by the
Laws of the Goſpel hath made to be his duty,
from thenceforth he ſhall not only have the be.
nefit of a common Providence in upholding and
ſtrengthening the Powers of his Mind, nor on-
ly find the effefts of a more eſpecial Providence
In removing Obſtacles, and making his way eaſie
to him, but by the vital Power and Efficacy of
the Divihe Spirit his Mind ſhall be more en-
tightned to fee the excellency of the thing he
goes about; his Will ſhall be confirmed and
ftrengthened in its choice and reſolution ; his
Affections quickened in the purſuit and executj-
on of that choice: and above all, his Heart
ſhall be cheared in the whole enterpriſe with
unſpeakable Joy, and many times with an ad-
mirable and raviſhing proſpect of the glory that
ſhall attend and crown his performance.

This our Saviour promiſed to the Chriſtian
Church before he left the World and afcended
to Heaven, viz. That he would this way be
preſent with them to the end of the World,
Matt. 28. 20. and hereof he gave a great ear-
neſt when on the famous day of Pentecoſt (As
2, 1.) the Holy Spitit came in a very prodigi-
ous manner upon all the Apoſtles and Chriſtians
that were afſembled together as the Repreſen-
tative and Seminary of his future Church ; and
it was done (amongſt other reaſons) to give af

K ſurance

138 A Winter-Exening Part II.
lirance that, he was, mindfull of his promiſe,
and that all Ages after might. juſtly expect the
preſence of his Spirit with them (though not:
ſo. viſible as, in that extraordinary inſtance )
which accordingly good Men. at all times find
true by comfortable experience.

Bigph., This. which you now tell me is the
ftrangeſt thing that ever I heard of in my Life ;
if this be true, it will be ridiculous to object
difficulty againſt the Chriſtian Inſtitution, for

upon this Suppoſition, it is, plain, there can be no-
thing but ſottiſhneſs or obſtinacy, cowardice and
credulity, to. hinder a Man. in obſerving the
Laws 0 it. But I pray however proceed in
your method, 'and ſhew me alſo, in the: next
place, what, are thoſe external helps and.advan-

tages/Which you intimated ? ;
| Sebaſt. The external advan-

The ſecond or ezz- tage of this Religion, which I
rw #-c am yi eſpecially intended, is the In-
ay of the ſtitutionofaChriſtian Church,
Society of a Church. that. is, the Son of God the

Author of- this Religion, or-
dered that all thoſe who imbraced- it, and be-
came his Diſciples, ſhould not content them-
felves. to live ſingly and ſeparately, as if they
were, unconcerned one in another , but unite
themſcives into a Body of Spiritual Polity; and
that aithough they were to. be reſpectively ſub=
jectto the Civil Governments under which they
lived (at leaſt, fo far as.the Laws of Men in-
trenched- not upon thoſe of, his Religion) yet
they. wereito. be under a ſtricter tye of Unity a-
mong{ſ themſelves, and to. become a diſtinct
Gorporation under peculiar Officers, as _—_
or

Pare 1IT. Conference. ' 39
for peculiar ends and purpoſes. Nor was this a
mere arbitrary or poſitive Law of his, and to be
vbſerved only becauſe he was eommanded it;
but as it was injoined with admirable Wiſdom
on his part, fo it was no leſs of ſingular advan-
tage to all his Diſciples in innumerable reſpects,
ſome of which I am ingaged to repreſent to you
in particular.
And firſt, The Conſtitution

of this Society of a Church, #70
was an excellent Expedient for $5 7 OO
the preſerving and holding up

of the Doctrine of Chriſtianity in the World,
and for the Prevention both of Corruptions
and Errors in the Laws, and of miſtakes in the
great Motives and Incouragements of this Reli-
gion. Hence the Church is called by the Apo.
ſtle St. Paul, The Pillar and Ground of Truth,
1 Tim. 3. 15. not that the Church properly
gives authority to the Doctrine of our Religion,
for that it hath immediately from our Saviour
himſelf, and from the Miracles wrought by
God 'to atteſt it (as I ſhewed before;) but be-
cauſe the Church was the conſervatory of the
Books wherein the Dottrine was written, and
a witneſs of the aforeſaid proofs made of the
Divinity of it, and competent to ſecure us from
impoſture, and to preterve and hold forth
thoſe facred Books that contained it as the
ſumm and code of our Religion. According-
Iy it is obſervable, that in the rage of Pagan
Perſecution in the time of Dzocleſtan, and when
the Enemies of this Religion grew to that
hejghth of Pride and Confidence, as to promiſe

to themſelves to root out all memory and re-
K 2 mains

10 AWainter-Evening Part III.

mains of Chriſtianity, the care and zeal of
this Society preſerved this ſacred depoſitum of
Holy Scripture intire to after Ages, when 0-
therwiſe private Perſons would or might out
of fear and weakneſs have delivered them up to
be deſtroyed.

Again, ſecondly, This way of incorporating
Chriſtians in the Society of a Church, wasa more
ealje and ready way for the Inſtruftion of the ſe-
veral Perſons of which that Society conſiſted, and
neceſſary for the publiſhing, explaining, and incul-
cating the DoCtrine and Lawsof their Religion
to them. For if our Saviour had appointed Pa-
ſtours and not a Flock (unleſs he had made the
former as numerous almoſt as the latter) it had
been impoſlible that they ſhould have inſtructed
all his Diſciples; but now he having appointed
and obliged them to join together in a Body, the
ſame Paſtour and the ſame Labour that inſtrufts
one may inſtru many. Ir is inthis caſe as it is
with thoſe Creatures that need the aſliſtance,
and are fed by the Hand of Man, God hath
ordered them by Nature to join in Flocks and
Herds, that they might be the more capable of
Humane Culture, and anſwer the labour and
care Men beſtow upon them ; whereas wild
Beaſts, they live ſingly, and therefore are left
to ſhift for themſelves. Now this is a great
advantage to all the Diſciples of this Religion,
that thoſe that cannot read nor ſtudy, nor are
capable of feeding themſelves, by this Society of
a Church, God hath provided a way for their
conſtant and eafie Inſtruction by the publick
Miniſtry of his Goſpel.

Moreover,

Part III. Conference. 141

Moreover, thirdly, By means of ſuch a So-
ciety and Officers appointed over it, there is
proviſion made for the Reſolution of all Doubts,
and for the eaſe and fatisfattion of melancholy
and perplexed Conſciences, which is a ſingular
advantage of this Inſtitution of a Church. For
it is not to be ſuppoſed but that there will be a
great number of well-meaning Men who may
either want parts and ability to judge of ſeveral
things that may concern them, or may want
leiſure to conſider ſo maturely as a difficul
may require, or may not be impartial enoug
in their own caſe to guide their own Conſciences;
now for the relief of ſuch as theſe, it is of great
uſe to be in the Society of a Church whereGod
hath appointed ſuch to be Officers in it who have
the Spirit of the Lord upon them to preach good
tidings to the meek, tobind up the broken hearted,
and to comfort thoſe that mourn, Ifai. 61. r, 2.
ſuch as have made it their buſineſs to ſtudy the
more difficult points of Religion, that they may
be able to ſpeak a word in ſeaſon to him that faint.
eth, Iſai. 50. 4. and whoſe Duty and Province
it is not ſo much to make publick Harangues to
the Flock, as by particular application to re-
move, Scruples, to ſolve Difficulties, and
vide for Emergencies ; and all this they may
well be ſuppoſed to be able to do with great ſin-
cerity and impartiality, as alſo with great Au-
thority, and being hereunto appointed by God
himfelf, and affiſted herein by the Holy Spirit.

Fourthly, There is this farther advantage of
this Inſtitution of a Church, that the Members
of this Society are not only more likely to ani-
mate and inflame one another in the ways of

K 3 Vertue

142 A Winter-Evening Part III.

Vertue and Piety by mutual example, but: alſo
being coricerned in one another, as of the ſame
Body, and for the Honour of their common
Faith and Religion, are authorized to watch o-
ver. one another, to correCt the erroneous, to
admoniſh the. careleſs, to reprove the vicious, to
ſtrengthen the weak, to incourage the good,
and, in a word, are obliged In art extraordina-
ry manner to all Offices of Charity and Piety
towards one. another.

Alb which together muſt needs be a mighty
meansof [ſecuring both the Do&trneand Practice
of Religion and of promoting all the ends of it,

When a' Man hath not only- the comfort of
his private Conſcience whenfoever he doth
bravely;: but the publick Acclamations of the
whole Charch ; and contrariwiſe, when he doth
any. thing baſely and viciouſly, he is not only

under the ſetret laſhes of his own guilty Mind,
but expoſed: to ſhame and reproach, and incurrs
the Cenſure' of: the whole Society. When a
Man cannot” be-fantaſtical and - affet Novelty,
but ſuch am:honourable Body is concerned for
his danger, and: obliged to uſe their endeavours
toreclaim. him, and if that be inſucceſsfull, are
put te:make a publick Lamentation for him :
nor, on the other ſide, can any Man acquit
himſetfi:as.a worthy Champion for the Truth,
and mi$.of|a Laurel in this World, fince he
ſhall be fare 'to:have: the Gratulations and ho-
nourabte Efleem: of ſuch a Society. Now: if
there were-no ſuch thing as a-Church conſtitu-
ted, there would be very. few: Men found that
would take care of thoſe- things, and eſpecially
few that would venture upon the ſy

ce

Part III. Conference, 143
Office of Reproying : or if perhaps fome Per.
ſons might' be found who had zeal enough to
undertake it, yet_as in that caſe it; would not
ealily appear to be theip duty; ſa neither could
it be performed with that authority and ſucceſs
as now it may. | |

But then for the more ordinary Offices of
Charity, ſuch as pitying and comforting the
weak, ſuccouring the oppreſſed, ;and relieving
the neceſſitous; theſe would not only be coldly
performed, but indeed..-would bg thought to be
no.duties at all, if there was no ſuch thing as a
Church whereby Men are incorporated toge-
ther. For beſides that we find very little of this
thought of or. praffiſed amongſt thoſe that are
not of this Society ; -we may allo generally take
an Eſtimate of Mens AfffeCtion to the Church of
Chriſt, by their Charity to the Members of it,
But-if Men believe there is ſuch a Soeiety as a
Church inſtituted, and they conſider themſelves
as Members of it, then even ſelf-love (which
makes others uncharitable) renders theſe high-
ly charitable, becauſe they then. look upon 0-
thers as Members of the ſame Body with them.
ſelves.

Fifthly and Laſtly, The Eſtabliſhment of the
Society of a Church, and thereby a publick
Workhip,. is an Expedient of unſpeakable com-
fort and incouragement to all humble and mo-
deſt perſons, and eſpecially to ſuch as are truly
contrite and broken-hearted, in the addreſffing
their Prayers to Almighty God, animating them
againſt their Senſe of the Guilt of their Sins,
the unworthineſs of their Perſons, the imper-
tection of their Prayers, and affording them

K 4 many

144 A Winter-Evening Part I.

many Arguments of hope for ſucceſs beyond
what they could expect from their private De-
Votions. * : «= Done
* Whilſt: they conſider, in the firſt place, that
they are now in God's Houſe, or Court of Re-
gueſts, where he uſes to give audience to poor
Suppliants. T |
Again, Secondly, That their deſires are put
up by the Hands of God's own Miniſter whom
robe appointed to preſent Petitions to him-
- ff | |
Thirdly, That their Prayers are not offered up
ſingly and alone, but in conjunftion with 'the
Devotions. of ſo many other more holy Perſons
as the whole'Church conſiſts of, fo that they
may hope to ſpeed the better for ſuch company,
and eſpecially by the united Efficacy of ſo many
ardent AfffeCtions. _ |
And, Laſtly, The Faith and Hope of ſuch
Men is wonderfully ſtrengthened by the Con-
templation of the great Propitiation for fin,
made by our Saviour, and repreſented to their
Eyes on the Lord's Table in the _ Commu-
nion, All theſe things were mightily eſteemed
by the Chriſtians of old, and certainly are great
advantages. | |
© And thus I have now laid before you the pe.
culiar Laws of the Goſpel, and ſhewed you al-
ſo the admirable Encouragements, and the fin-
gular Helps and Affiſtances God hath afforded us
towards the obſervance of thoſe Laws, and the
Proſecution of that Religion. Is there any
thing more I can ſerve you in? _ © |
' Bioph.. Yes, I plainly ſee there is a great deal
more I may learn of you: but God be —
Frogs Wives - | | 16 hd | . wal

Part III. Conference. 145

and I heartily thank you for what I havelearn-
ed hitherto.

Sebaſt, You remember I have opened to you
the Grounds and Reaſon of Religion in general,
and thence led you to the Chriſtian Religion in

articular, and by the line of that IT have now
brought you to the Church, and there I leave
you in good hands, and I pray God be with

ou.
: Bioph. You have brought me to ſee the folly
of my own Prejudices, which I again thank God
and you for: 1 am convinced of the Reality and
Neceflity of ſome Religion or other, and of the
Excellency of the Chriſtian Religion above all
that ever I heard of, or what I could have ima-
gined ; and now I intend in earneſt to bethink
my ſelf how to live accordingly,

| Sebaft. Remember withal to keep cloſe to the
Church, and be conſtant and diligent in atten-
dance upon the publick Worſhip of God there,
that will be a means both-to keep up that good
Zeal which you are now under, and to preſerve
it from running out into wild Extravagancies.

Bioph. I will , Sebaſtian, by God's Grace, I
will, and jn that courſe hope to come to Hea-
ven at laſt.

Phil. What, Biophilus, will you turn, Knight-
Errant now?

Bioph. You neither can nor will, I know Phj-
lander, ſo much upbraid me with my former
folly, as my own Heart will do it for me; but
I will endeayour tomake amends for thatby my
future diligence.

Phil. Ah! God forbid, Brophilus, that T,
who am ſenſible of my own many Sins, ſhould
| no upbraid

146 AA Winter-Evenimg Part IT.

upbraid your Errors, I embrace you with all
my Heart, I heartily welcome you into the way
of Heaven; there I am ſure the Angels rejoyce
at this bleſſed Change, and nothing leſs than
Devils can repine at it, and they muſt be a fort
of deſperate Wretches amongſt Men that can
upbraid you for what is paſt.

Sebaſtk. Well, good night to you both, Gen-
tlemen, I doubt it grows late.

Phil TÞ hope, good Sebaſtian, you are not.
weary of well-doing; I was unwilling to inter-
rupt you and BrophiJu in your diſcourſe hither-
to, both becaule it exceedingly confirmed and
improved me in-what (I thank God) I did be-
lieve already, and eſpecially becauſe I did not
doubt of a good iſſue of ic upon my neighbour ;
but I have all this while waited for an opportu-
nity to ask your advice in a caſe or two of very
great concernment; and now I intreat you al-
low me the liberty,to do it.

' Sebaft. 1 pray God my power be anſwerable
to my will to ſerve you ; What is the matter,
Philander ?

Phil. There are theſe two things I would
crave your direQion in:

Firſt, by what means a Man .may maintain
his pround, and keep ſtable and ſteadfaſt in Re-
ligion in diftrated times ?

And, Secondly, What courſe he ſhould take
to maintain an even temper and conſtant chear-
fulneſs of Spirit-under all the accidents of the
preſent Life?

Sebaſt. Qh! Philander, there you have tied
me by the Leg; I cannot ſtir a foot from you:
thoſe two inquiries are both ſo neceſſary at all
times,

Part III. Conference. 147

times, and ſo peculiarly ſeaſonable at this time,
that I ſhould negle&t my ſelf as well as you, if I
ſhould not be willing to conſider of them with
you; and it's pity we have not time more fully
to treat of them.

But I pray, in the firſt place,
let me know what you mean
byStability in Religion? Would
you have a Man be peremptory in his judgment,
and unmovable from his firſt perſwafions what-
ever they were? Do you think it unlawfull or
diſhonourable for a Man ever to change his Q-
pinion in Religion 2 This methinks is no better
than a Reſolution, never to bewiſer than a Man
is at preſent; nay, to be always a child and ne-
ver to out-grow his youthfull :
prejudices and follies: you _ Bag —_— e
know it is the hard fortune of ,,., +4 Religion.
ſome Men to have been 111 e-
ducated, and to have had bad Principles inſtil-
led into them in their injudicious years, and it
cannot be imputed to ſuch Men as a vicious
Levity or Inconſtancy, but a very vertuous and
commendable thing upon maturer judgment to
diſcard fuch old Wives Fables or juvenile Fan-
Cies.

Phil. No, Sebaſtian, T do not think the Minds
of Men ſhould be after the manner of uninha-
bited Lands, and become prims occupant ; nor
do I call Perſeverance in an Error Stability, but
Stubbornneſs and Obſtinacy. The meaning of
my firſt queſtion therefore is only how a Man
ſhall be inabled to ſtand firm and tight to the
Truth of Chriſtian Religion, that whereof his
Judgment is convinced by. good Reaſon, and
| | Ls! whereof

of Stability it:
Religion.

148 A Winter-Evenms Part III.

whereof he hath had good Proof and Experi-
ence; ſo that he ſhall neicher be always tftying and
feeking, and diſputing and doubting on the one
hand, nor on the other, in danger tobe heor'd
out of his Conſcience by any terrour, nor whee-
dled and complemented out of ir by flattery and
inſinuation, that no Example of great Men, or
of the multitude may biaſs him, nor Sophiſtry
of cunning Men cheat him of his Religion, no
Atheiſtical Perſon droll or railly him out of it,
nor Scurrility make him aſhamed of it.

Sebaſt. I did not doubt but that was your
meaning, and (as I faid before) that is a very
weighty and important queſtion, both in re.
ſpect of the many Temptations that may at
ſome times eſpecially put a Man's Conſtancy
hard to it ; and in reſpect alſo of the miſchief
of yielding or being bafted in that particular.

The Temptations and Dangers of this kind
(as you have well intimated) are many: for a
Man may be either undermined by Policy, or
battered by plain force; he may be wheedled
by Complements or born down by Authority;
impoſed upon by Rhetorical flouriſhes, or cir-
cumvented by Sophiſtry ; or ſome Man may in-
dulge his Curioſity to try all things, who hath
neither the judgment to diſcern, nor the cou-
rage to hold faſt that which is beſt.

FE And an the other ſide, the
17he miſchiefe of miſchief of yielding in this caſe,
floncy in Religim. TT Of foregoing the truth (by

| what means ſoever it be) is

very great. For doubtleſs Divine Truth, eſpe-

cially that of the Goſpel, js a very great depo-
fitum, a mighty truſt which God hath repoſed
; in

Part III. Conference. 149

in us, and he that is falſe to it, and either ſoft.
ly or fillily delivers it up, is a Traitor both a-
gainſt God, and his own Soul,

His fins againſt God, ungratefully underva.
luing ſo great a Bleſſing as the knowledge of true
Religion, and playing faſt and looſe with it, as
if the Goſpel was fit only to ſervea turn.

And he intolerably wrongs and cheats him-
ſelf, abandoning the only ettectual Principles of
true Piety, and themeans of improving himſelf
to a capacity of eternal Happineſs. For it is
a mighty miſtake (as I have noted before) for
a Man to think that all Religions are alike, or
that ſo a Man be true to any Principles, the
purſuit of them will bring him to Heaven,

It is true, ſometimes Men are better than
their Opinions, as we ſee amongſt the ſeveral
ſorts of deluded Seftaries : there are ſome
which we cannot but in charity judgeto be good
Men, but then it muſt be when the miſtake is
only in ſome Notion or inconſiderable Tenets,
and when otherwiſe they are right for the main,
but where the error is fundamental, or in the
ſubſtantial part of Religion, then the very Sj-
news of Piety are cut, and a Man's zeal in ſuch
a caſe will be wild and fruitleſs. For as in Na-
ture, it is impoſſible for Water to riſe higher
than its Source or Fountain ; fo it ſeems to be
(at leaſt next to) impoſſible in morality, that a
Man ſhould be better than his Principles. There-
fore ſaith our Saviour, Either make the tree good
and bis fruit good, or the tree corrupt and his fruit
corrupt ; for a corrupt tree cannot bring forth good
fruit, &c. Matth. 12.33. And again, zf the
light that is in thee be darkneſs, how great is that

darkne(; ?

i5o A Wrinter-Evening Patt III.
darkneſs ? Matth. 6. 23. As if he had aid, © It
« jstrue, a Man may w:th-hold the truth in un-
* righteouſneſs, and be worſe in his Life than
*. the Principles of his Mind and Conſcience
« did require ; but if a Man's Principles them-
&« ſelves be nought, and if he have embraced a
* bad Religion, what good can be expected
« from him 2 Therefore, I fay, a Man horri-
bly cheats his own Soul, who upon any pretence,
or under any Temptation whatſoever, forſakes
or blanches the true Principles of Religion.

Nay farther, IT think it worth the obſerving,
that the very unſettledneſs of a Man's Mind, if
it be but in mere Opinion, and although heſhould
all the while keep cloſe to the great Principles
of Religion, is a great impediment to the growth
of Piety and Vertue. For as weſee a Tree, by
being often removed (although it ſhould be ſtill
to a better Soil) is hindred both in its growth
and fruitfulneſs ; fo we find by experience, that
thoſe who are the moſt buſie diſputers, and who
moſt affe&t Novelty and change of Opinions, do
little more than make a noiſe or a ſhew in the
World, but are fo far from improvement in their
Lives and Tempers, that contrariwiſe they grow
apparently more paſſionate, proud, ambitious,
cenſorious and ſchiſmatical,

Bat to be fure he that is facile, and unreſol-
ved in his Principles, and of a duQtile Conſci-
ence, ſhall never be able to do any honour to his
Religion or to himſelf,

As for his Religion : Who ſhall perſwade me
to be of his Principles, whom I perceive to be
anrefolved of them himfelf?

And

Part III. Conference. 151

And- for the eſteem ofhis Perſon that is muta-
ble, this will be his fate, That he (hall be fcorn-
ed asa Renegado by thoſe very Men that at the
ſame time glory in having made him a Proſe-
lyte. All which things / anda great many more,
which I need not mention to you) do eftectual-
ly recommend Stability and: Conftancy in Reli-
g10n.

Phil, F am: well aware of the truth of what
you ſay, and thereupon I do the more earneſtly
intreat you to give me your Advice in the caſe,
that TI may continue ſtanch and ſtable againſt
all-the Afailants of my Religion, and fo avoid
all the miſchiefs you have given me warning of,
as conſequent of Levity and Changing.

Sebaſt. It is not fo difficult to give advice in
this-caſe (and that ſuch as would effeQually do
the buſineſs too) as it is hard to find Men that
ask for ic in earneſtand with intention to follow
it: for ſome, as I told you before, think it ave-
ry indifferent thing what Religion they are of,
ſd they have any thing that is called by that
name, at leaſt if it be Chriſtian, and they can
fee the Appearance of a Church, and the Ce-
remonies-and Appendages of Religion amongſt
them.

And ſome are ſo filly as to think there is no
change made if they have but the old Names of
things lefr them; like the Romans in their de-
generate times, that ſuffered themſelves to be
tamely wheedled out of their ancient Liberty,
ſo long as the name of a commonwealth, and a
few other terms of Art were retained. Such
Men will take Braſs-money for good Pay, if
they ſee but the uſual Face and Inſcription up-

= ol

152 4 Winter Evening Part Ill:

on it, and you may ſafely ſteal away their Gooſe
if you ſtick but down a Feather in the room of
it. Sore are ſo childiſhly fond of Pomp and
Ceremony, that it there appear more of that
than ordinary, they will believe Religion to be
only improved and not changed.

Some again have ſuch a ſickly lofgirig after
Novelty, that they will be always making Ex-
periments though it be at the hazzard of their
own Souls, and ſome love their Religion well
enough if it coſt them nothing : but they will
run no hazards for it. And in fine, there are
others that think it a wiſe thing to ſacrifice a
Conſcience to gain a potent Friend, anda good-
ly purchaſe to buy the preſetit World with the
loſs of that which is to come.

But I am ſatisfied of the ſincerity of your
Temper, and therefore in anſwer to your De-
mand, I recommend to you theſe three or four
things.

© t. In the firſt place, you,
——_ jo = know that your Religion, F
in She reue Religion, 1364n that which you havebeen

trained up in by the Church

of England, and which you have always profeſ-
ſed, is a Scriptural Religion, z e. ſuch an one
as hath not merely preſcribed for it ſelf by cu-
ſtom (though it be certainly elder than thoſe
that do ſo) nor derived it ſelf from that head-
lefs Monſter, unaccountable Tradition, no nor
yet from the Subtilty of Humane Philoſophy
(though it have more reaſon to plead for it ſelf
than any other) but hath taken its riſe from Ho-
ly Scripture and Divine Revelation, and conſe-
quently as it is to be proved, fo it is to be dif-
proved

Part III. Confereiice. 153
diſproved thence, or nothing can be faid to the
purpole againſt it.

Therefore my firſt Advice ma a ok
is, That you ſtudy the Holy Holy "=. wy
Scripture diligently, and ſtick ;
cloſe to that; that, as St. Paul hath aſſured us,
is given by inſpiration of God, and is profitable
for doerine, for reproof, for wo in righ-
teouſneſs, that the man of God may be fe,
throughly furniſhed for all good works, 2 Tim:
3. 16. and from thence a Man may te able to
give a reaſon of the hope that is in bim, 1 Pet.
3. Is. 1. e, make a ſufficient Apology for, and
Defence of his Religion.

I do not mean hereby, either altogether ta
evacuate the authority of laudable Cuſtom in
ſome certain caſes ; or much leſs, that either
Tradition or Humane Learning was to be ſlight-
ed ; nor leaſt of all, that the Scripture was fo
far a meaſure of our practice, as that every
thing became unlawfull and not to be admitted
in praCtice, which is not to be proved by ex-
preſs Scripture.

For God ſuppoſed us to be Men of under-
ftanding when he gave us Divine Revelation,
and thought fit to leave ſome Circumſtances of
things to be defined by Humane Prudence.

But this I think is certain, that if we pre-
tend our Religion to be derived from Scripture,
we muſt then-admit nothing which is con-
trary to that Rule, no nor account any thing
to be effential to it which that hath not provi-
ded for. |

For as it could not ſtand with the divine
Wiſdom to abound in ſuperfluities, or to give

E expreſs

154 A Winter-Evening Part Ill.

__ dire{tions for what was ſufficiently pro-
vided for before ; ſo neither could it conſiſt with
his Goodneſs to provide a Rule which was de-
feftive in Neceſlaries,

And'this T think (by the way) was the prime
excellency of the Reformation, that (althougb
ſome things perhaps might be erroneous, and :
many things imperfect in it) yet it revived the
true Canon of Chriſtian Religion, the Holy
Scripture, -and fo put into Mens Hands an cafie
and certain Rule to go by, far -befjdes other
advantages -of this Rule, t ſets us upon even
rune with themoſt cunning Adverfaries, and

orces them to play upon the ſquare with us.
Foraſmuch as this {as to the . main lines of it)
is fitted for all Capacities, that every Man may
ſee the. Grounds of his Religion.

As for Example, if any Man ſhould perſwade .
me to worſhip an Idol, or to worſhip the True
God by and under an Image, let fuch a Man
uſe all the Art and Sophiſtry he can, he will ne-
ver be able to impoſe upon him that ſtudies and
ſticks to the Holy Scriptures.

Or if another ſhould go about to perſwade
me there was an eaſier and ſhorter way to Hea-
venthan byan Holy Life, and that there might
be either Diſtintions or Diſpenſations, or ſome
way or other of Commutation found out which
would excuſe me- that trouble and do my buſineſs
as well; I can never be cheated into ſuch a Per-
ſwaſion whilſt Iconſult the Holy Scripture, which
is as plain and as full as can be deſired in both
thoſe caſes : Therefore, as I faid; ſtick cloſe to
the Holy Scripture, as you deſire to hold your
Religion.

2. But

E -v
, KY
a
4s FE

Part HI. Conference. 155

2. But if it ſhall h that

either any thing in 8 va a uſe ofjour

re ſhould feem ſo obſcure, © .
or that the Sophiſtry of cunning Men ſhould caſt
ſuch a Miſt before us that we are not able to
determine our felves what to do. Then, in
the ſecond place, we are to reſort to our Spiri-
tual Guides, which.God hath ſet over us, who
have baptized tis into, and trained us up in. our
Religion to help us out.

This is atfo a means of Stability of God's own
appointing; for the Apoſtle hath told us that
God hath erected thoſe Orders of Men in his
Church that we ſhould nor be as Children toſs d
ta aud. fro by every Wind of Dottrine, and by the
cunning craftineſs. of Men. who lie in wait to de-
cetve, Epheſ. 4 14. And theſe having made
it their whole bufineſs and ſtudy to be fit for
their Office, and to be acquainted with the
Depths of Satan, as. well as the Myſtery of Chri-
ſtianity; I mean, tobe able to detect the Frauds
and Sophiſtry of Deceivers, as well as to under=
ſtand and explicate the Holy Scripture, and
the deep Points of Religion; and being alſo or-
dinarily to be preſumed, Men of Prudence and
Experience, it muſt needs be very fit that theſe
ſhould be conſulted and hearkened to with reve-
rence, eſpecially by thoſe that have been detti-
tute of the aforeſaid Advantages, and it is very
unreaſonable that any Man ſhould make-ſo-great
a: Change as that of his Religion is, without
the beſt advice and moſt mature Deliberation of
this kind. | |

And this is eſpecially to be heeded in this:
preſent Age when. ſuch crafty Gameſters are.

L 2 abroad

"156 A Winter-Evenng Part III.

abroad that uſe ſuch Legerdemain, and to cogg
the Die (as the Apoſtle's Phraſe imports in the
fore-mentioned place) when, I fay, there is
ſuch Fox like Craft, and ſuch Methods of Deceit
to gain Proſelytes, That the neglect of this Cau-
tion ſeems to be the principal defeC&t and danger
of the Members of this Church. The Men
of other Perſwaſions, follow their Guides with
an implicite Faith and a blind Obedience, and
are ſcarce permitted the uſe of their reaſon, or
to chuſe for themſelves even in the moſt indif-
ferent things. And if we will not ufe ſo much
Deference to our Paſtors as to think they may
ſee farther than we in -controverted Caſes ; we
- ſhall bein danger to holdour Religion no longer
than till we ſhall be briskly affaulted.
3- He that would be ſtable
3- Contemp: of in his Religion, muſt learn to
= = my _ contemn the preſent World,
Religion 4 without which both the for-
'_ mer advices will be utterly in-
fgnificant for his ſecurity againſt Apoſtaſie, If
a Man have the preſent World in - admiration,
ie-will dazle his Eyes, blind his Judgment, pre-
judice- his Mind, bribe his AffeCtions, and de-
bauch his Conſcience; for it cannot be but Re-
ligion, 'and the things of another World muſt
becheap with him that over-values the preſent.
Fudas, we know, ſold our Saviour at the
vilte-rate of thirty pieces of Silver ; but Prefer.
ment'and Honour, Wealth-and Glory, are fo
t motives, that the Devil had the Confi-
ence to hope to prevail upotr our Saviour him-
RIF to: fall down and worſhip him, when he
ſhewed bim the Kingdoms of the World, and the
; Glory

Part II. Conference. ,' 157
Glory of them, and offered them to him at that

rice.

; To ſwim in Pleaſure, flow with Wealth, and
be at the top of the World in Glory, what will.
not this do with unmortified Hearts? Such Men
in ſuch a caſe will (it may be) at firſt ſtrain
Curteſie with Conſcience, and find out a thou.
ſand Shifts and Diſtinftions to excuſe themſelves;
but rather than fail (and if that will not do

they will cut the knot they cannot uatie,
rudely break with Conſcience, rather than with-
ſtand ſo great allurements.

Therefore, Philander, if you and I would
ſtick faſt to our Principles, we. muſt ſit ſome-
what looſe to the World, we muſt entertain
no great opinion concerning Wealth and Ho-
nour, -but be content with little things for the
preſent, and comfort our ſelves with the Ex-
pettation of great in another World. We
muſt conſider with. our ſelves how.vain and em-
pty thoſe things are, even in this Life, and
- whilſtthey are enjoy 'd, and eſpecially; how per-
feftly thy vaniſh, and are of no ayail at i x
the Day of Judgment ; »e muſt . look. at: t
things which are not ſeen, and are eternal, t
crown of life, 2 Cor. 4. wit. (1 mean) whi
God hath prepared for all thoſe that are faith-
full _ to the death, Rev. 2. 10. Then ſhall we
be ſtable as the center of the Earth, unchange-
able as the Heavens, brave and courageous ſo
as to ſcorn allurements, contemn danger, and be
true to our rea] Intereſt, our Conſcience, : our
God, and our Religion.

L 3 4.1

158 A Witer-Evming Part 11,
4. Vf eſpecially to all theſe,
4 PO in the laſt place, we join fer-
-5xh a i vent and conſtant Prayer to
| : God: for we are not to truft.
to our ſeſves; but \commend to him the fixing
our minds #nd eſtabliſhing our hearts; he made
them and knows them, and he only can confirm
and firengtheh 'thetn againſt afl our own folly
and Jevity, and againſt all the temptations of
the Devil ; Se; provide that we ſhall nor be
td int-temptation, & however, that no tempta-
Fion ſhal] overtake us but whit we ſhall be able to
bear; he can deliver usfrom all the ſnares that
ſhall belaid for us, aid? help us to clude all'So-
phifiry;' and;'in a word, "can'upon emergeticy,
atd in the yery nick of tithe, beſtow upon us ſuch
= ſpirit ant] wiſdom asnohe of our adverſaries foal
be able'to withſtand, Luk: 21; 15.
Theſe, lander, ire the moſt effetthal things
Z cafi: thitk of 'for the preferit, in anfiver to your

R PM [hdr you' heartily, Sebaſtian, for the
Tg tin you tive piven me, and I ſhall

it Yoth thy rar care, and the matter'of
yer to oa. that neither the levity of
my (Arts "Mind, nor'the importunity of others,
8 Nog, hve from the” jp old 'way'of 'the
Churdh', Ne: and that neither any effort
Fey = Fon, te, hl *
, Ir the* rms 0 verſity,
"ger'th Reſolution. *
And "os, "becxitſe I 6d riot be
ſome to you too long; bePleaſed as 'bri
the caſe will bear to reſolve mealſo in my "key
tir, namely, By what means I may main-
tain

Part IIF. Conference, Y 159

rain a conſtant, .chearfulneſs of Spirit in the
courſe of Chriſtiapity. You made it evident at
the beginning of this preſent Conference, that
there is ſuch. a thing attainable, and you will
not wonder that I am. inquiſitive after ſo ineſti-
mable a good: And the rather becauſe ( it is-in
vain to be aſhamed to-tell you what you cannot
but, have obſerved your ſelf in me) for my
own part, though I am ſometimes very comfor-.
table, and now and then as full of joy as my
Heart can. hold, yet at other times (whether
by occaſioned by any error of my life, or by

effect of. my Conſtitution

NE or ct weakneſs of _yuny \4 —_
my I cannot tell) it is w-
cate otherwiſe: with me, and Preggs Tr ivr”
my Spirits fink. as low as they. "I
were high before.. Now there- .
fore give me your, advice how. I, may, maintain.an
excn temper of chearfulnefs, fo. that .I may nei-
ther :ſcem. to; be Infidel nor Enthuſiaſt, mr
diſparage the Power' of Religion, by. meannefs
s ck, 90 renting ie ſuſpected, Hþ be _

e atting of a y Wy 0 Fa

peeling to. too. obih fighn "=

Pann; of p—_Y Phi-
leader, is no. Ieſs uſefull than. the former,
(as: #00, well itimated'). not Lc.
; RAprncſ of;a Man's. ow!
upon it, but rhe Reputation of Reli ;an-it wn
is very, muck conce emper, of. Spirit,
which, he e ———— 0 or The g-
er:to Rdli = TO ae be ad of i, the
obſerves the appt Few aq the
vetyal Scruples the dlfl and _—_

Coun-

160 A Winter-Evening Part Ill,

Countenances of ſome that pretend to it > And
on the other hand ; What ſober Man would not
take it to be an Enthvtiaſtick Frenzy, when he
obſerves Men to be rapt up into the third Hea-
ven (at leaſt in their own conceit) but can give
no rational account of it? And again ; what
wiſe Man fhall obſerve the uncertainty of Mens
remper in this reſpe&t, and'not ſuſpect whether
that can have any ſolid Foundation it ſelf whoſe
Effetts are ſo volatile and inconſtant ?

This being the conſequence of the caſe, it is
ery fit it ſhould be provided for accordingly.

Now though what I haye faid already whilft I
was anſwering Brophils's Objetions' againſt the
comforrableneſs of Religion, will in' a good
meaſure came. up to this point, efpccially if you
lay all thoſe things together which were occaſj-

only Lk 7 i the bye..-

Now in'order to the detirmtioing of the me-
thod and meansof ſettled peaceand an even tem-
per of Spiritual Comfort, it is neceflary that
we diſcover the' ſeveral cauſes of the Interpreta-
tion cher, a and- when we have found them;
a: we me oi proper and peculiar Remedies

> wel then we ſhall'do your buſinefs;

LOT: reed: the former, viz. the'caiiſes of the Un-
evenneſs of a Chriſtian's Spirit, or the' Interry-
ptions of his Spiritual Comfort, they are eaſily
found out, and't do not doubt but they may be
peckoned t to be theſe five following: *

Namely,

Part III, Conference. R 7 161

Namely, either, z. Unevenneſs and Irregu-
larity of Life. Or,

2. Undue Apprehenfions of God. Or,

3. Miſtake of the terms of the Gofpet. Or,

4. Sad Accidents externally. Or,

6. Melancholy of Body.

7. In the firſt place, I ac- Aconfant and.
count the Irregularity of Mens 7* 9c of ou.
Lives to be a 'very common buen ceo
and the moſt ordinary cauſe of 2conftant and ever
the Unevenneſs of their Com- remper of heart.
fort. |

All vertuous Ations have naturally Peace
and tranquility belonging to them; for, beſides
the pleaſant Air of good Reputation that attends
them, and that a Man who hath the leaſt value
for applaufe that can be, is, notwithſtanding,
inſenſibly made more chearfull by it, it is a great
deal more to have a Man's own Conſcience ap-
prove him, and eſpecially when he conſiders
that he doth what God 'is well pleaſed with,
and that which he will not fail one way or o-
ther to give. Teſtimony to, and fhew' his Ap-
probation of, > |

On the contrary, all vicious Attions are na-
turally mad of? i for, beſides the infamy
that attends them, they have gmt inſeparably
adheres'to them'; and Gods diſpleaſure intailed

on them. * Fbr as'he can never either hate
Veituc or love Vice without a flat'Contradidti-
oft to his own Nature, ſo-neither can he, or
will/he frown upon the one, or ſhine upon the
other. © - OY |
- Now therefore*if s Man be habitually vicious,
he 'muſt needs be habitually ſad and miſerable
EN | (with

162 A Winter- -Evening Part IN.

(without that more miſerable and ſordid Re-
fuge, Drunkenneſs, that filthy Doſe for the
Gripes of Conſcience.) And if a Man be habi-
tually Good. and Holy, and maintains a con-
ſtant courſe of Piety and Vertuous Actions, he
will be habitually comfortable, and under acon-
ſtant ray of light and glory. But if a Man be
up and down in his lite, ſometimes good, and
ſometimes bad, or at leaſt ſometimes braye and
generous, and at other times. flat and careleſs,
he cannot expect that his comforts ſhould be
more conſtant than he himſelf is : for the etkcts
muſt follow the condition of their cauſes. =

In this caſe therefore the Diſeaſe leads to the.
Remedy, he that would maintain an even tem-.
per of Peace in his Conſcience, muſt be ſure to
maintain an; eyen-courſe of Vertue and Piety ia
his Life. For it is not only impoſſible to ſecure
the former without the Aa but it is ridicu-
lous to pretend to it; nay farther, if it ſhould
happen that. any Man found his Heart chearfull
extraordinarily upon. other, terms, he would
have juſt cauſe to ſuſpect a a deluſion-of the De-
vil. |

God: «clans of the ſame Mind, R
on and the terms of happineſs ar a2 mg
ſettled, therefore there, ca 4 no way. to.
conſtant Combeet.i in the. ons, or Hopes in the.
to our duty;.nor can ere) bs any cauſe, 9
_ uncertainty, Jj.n the un
Hearts, But if a Man live fo, as that it...be.
come matter of difficult diſpate, whether he be
a good: Man or no, enoks be much more:
ſ{@, whether he ſhall go to Heaven or no, __

then

Part TI. Conference. 163

then I think it is out of difpute, whether ſach
a Man can be comfortable or not. Let the
Man therefore that aims at a ſettled Peace, be
ſure to be conſtant and thorongh paced in his
duty, that it become not only a biaſs upon him,
but 'the very method and habit of his Life ;
and let fooliſh People, if they will, call this
formality and a road of R&ligion, for if it be a
road, it is certainly the narrow'one that leads th
life ; for never is Religion as it ſhould be, till
it become thus natural and habitual, Yet leſt a.
ny Man'ſhonld by reaſon of the eafineſs of this
fate, when it'is arrived at, interpret it to be
but fortnality, let him withall embrace all op-
portunitites of doing not 'only ftriftly 'neceſla
duties, but brave and gerterous aCtions, that pl
he may demonſtrate zeal as well as conſtancy,
and an ardency of affetion'to God and Good»
nefs; and he - that takes 'this courſe, ſhall ef.
feQually ſecure himſelf againſt the firſt cauſe of
uncomfortableneſs. £0 IG

2. The Rn — A
ritual dejeftion { reckoned to gone

WAYS aye | | d &s the next

be undue apprehenſions of fo frtha Pe
God, and this generally goes |
a great way. inthe diſquiets and: diſorders of
moft well-meaning but'weak People ; for where»
us, if things be rightly conſidered; the very firſt
Notion 'of'a-'God is an (everlaſting ſpring of
wo and the right underſtanding of his Good-
1 is the great ſweetner of a'Man's Spirits, and
that which” principally diſpoſes 'him to chear-
fulneſs; it is common with weak or deluded
People either to receive ſick Impreſſions from
others, or ignorantly to frame ſuch an _—

164 AA Winter-Evening Part [Il.

of God in their own Minds as they muſt eter-
nally hate, but cannot poſſibly love; And if the
Thoughts of God be unpleaſant to them, it
muſt needs follow that all the duties of Religi-
on muſt go on heavily, and when they have
done, their hopes muſt be flat, and all about
them looks melancholy. |

- The principal thing I aim at in this place, is
when Men have ſuch a Notion of God 2s renders
his Aftions as neceſſary as his Nature ; and be-
cauſe (as I have: ſhewed to Brophilus) he was
from Eternity, and could not but -be,: therefore
they conceit he cannot but do whatſoever is done
as neceflarily as he exiſts, and ſo unawares they
ſt a ſurly and rigid - Fate over themſelves in-
ſtead of a wiſe and good God. For in purſu-
ance. of this Notion they conciude he muſt be
juſt to extremity, and that he is bound to vin-
dicate himſelf rigorouſly, fo. that. he cannot a-
bate or remit of his.own right, byt muſt exact
the utmoſt Farthing ; and on. the. ather ſide,
they fanſie that he; cannot but do all the good
he-doth, and muſt: upon neceſſity . of nature
make all thz*Expreſſjons of kindneſs that are
poſſible. ary: ry wide 1

. The former..of.; theſe is very: horrible; for
(though in one. reſpect it renders.God leſs than
a Man, for we. both, can (and qaght in many
caſes to) recede from our own right, yet upon
the whole). it muſt needs be an.,hard Chapter,
nay, a moſt kiling Conſideratian., to. ſuch im-
perfect and guilty-Creatures.as we. are, to think
our. ſelves under a- Gad. that, cannot. pardon
properly, that. can paſi no Act; of Grace, but
mult rigidly exaft_ his Right ane way or other;

>.

Part III. Conference. 165

for then what can my Prayers, and Tears, and
Repentance, and even Reformation ir ſe.f (igni-
fie? Andthough there be a Mediator and a Sa-
tisfaftion ſpoken of in the Goſpel, yet the ap-
prehenſion of ſuch a ſupreme Being is able to
render even that Remedy ſuſpicious, or how.
ever to make a Man's Heart ake and tremble all
the days of his Life ; but to be ſure he can take
no delight in God, whatever hopes he may
have in a Saviour,

And then, on the other fide, rhe apprehen-
ſion of the neceſſity of the Atts of Divine Good-
neſs renders him as contemptible as the former
made him terrible. For who can think him-
ſelf bound to love and thank him for that
which he could not chuſe but do? And beſides,
this renders all Prayers and Addreſles to ſuch a
God as fruitleſs as the other. For what need
I pray to him that cannot do otherwiſe than
he doth ?

But the miſtake all this while lies here; nei-
ther of theſe ſorts of Men conſider that God is
a free Agent, and conſequently though he can-
not chuſe but be juſt and righteous in all his
dealings, yet he is bourd by nothing but his
own good pleaſure to exerciſe ſuch, or ſuch in-
ſtances of Juſtice. He may puniſh, or he may
pardon upon what terms he pleaſes, and fo far
as he pleaſes; He bath Mercy becauſe be will have
Mercy, and becauſe Mercy my. =; him: And ſo
for his Goodneſs, though he is infinitely full
and perfect, and conſequently delights to com.
municate himſelf to his Creatures, yet all the
Inſtances and Expreſſions of it are free and vo.
luntary; he is not bound. to do ſuch things

merely

166 A Winter-Eveniug Part Ill;

merely becauſe they are good in the general,
but accordingly as his own Wiſdom diredqs
him, and as they ſhall ſerve the Ends of that in
particular. And then every good Man that
lives under theſe Apprehenfions may be gene-
rouſly comfortable, and neither be tempted to
deſpiſe God as a ſoft and good-natured Being,
on the one fide, nor to be horribly afraid of him,
and hate him, on the other.

3. Another cauſe of Un-

Right apprehen= Comfortableneſs is, when Men
fon of the remper do not rightly underſtand the
Cans bes terms of the Goſpel, but ei.
means of ſertled ther miſtake the Opinions and
Peace. Traditions of Men for the

Definitions of God, or at leaſt
confound what God defigns to bring us up to
by the Goſpel as a State of Perfection, with
what he ſtrictly requires and jnſiſts upon as the
Conditions of Salvation. Hence it comes to

ſs that they are not able to make any good
udgment of their own Eſtate, but are either
apt to comply with the flatteries of their own
Hearts, and pranounce comfort to themſelyes
upon too looſe terms ; or on the other ſide, to
yield to their own Mclancholy by too ſevere
and rigid a Cenſure of themſelves; or laſtly,
will waver between both, according as they
meet with a New Book, a New Saying, or an
unuſual Accident, and fo be by fits fad or chear=
full, as it happens.

Now for this, it is to be conſidered, that
though the Goſpel ſometimes ſeems to be very
ſtrict and ſevere, or at leaſt very accurate in its
Preſcriptions, which it doth, partly for the

Honour

Part III. Conference. 167

Honour and Perfection of that Religion, partly
by that means to ſcrew us up to as high a Pitch
as poſſible ; For it is certain if our Copy or
Rule ſhould be low and mean, our endeavours
ſhould be ſlackned, and our performances would
fall ſo very ſhort that we ſhould not be tolerable
Chriſtians : Again, on the other fide, though
the ſame Goſpel at other times ſpeaks very con-
deſcendingly and ſeems to make ſo great allow-
ances to human Infirmity, as if it was a y
ealie matter to be ſaved; and this it doth to in-
courage eſpecially men of melancholy and de-
jeted Tempers, and to bear them up againſt
the fad RefleCtions they are apt to make either
upon their former Sins, or their daily Infirmj.
ries.
Yet all this while God is of one Mind, and
the New Teſtament hath a determinate Senſe:

Namely, That whatſoever ſhall give evidence
of a Man's Sincerity, 2. e. that he hath a prin-
ciple of Divine Life in him, and a true Love
of God and Goodneſs, this ſhall be ſufficient to
his Salvation ; and as nothing leſs than this
ſha!l be accepted, ſo nothing more is indiſpen-
ſibly required.

For the Salvation or Damnation of Men de-
yuUn not upon Punctilio's or nice Points of

iſpute, as if God had a Mind x means
of a ſubtil Interpretation to ſave and damn Men
arbitrarily, therefore he lays no ſtreſs upon
their being, or not being, of ſuch an Opinion,
nor takes the advantage of a Ceremony under
or over; for the Apoſtle hath told us, That
tbe Kingdom of God 4 not Meat and Drink,
but Righteouſneſs, Peace, and Foy in the Holy

Ghoſt,

© 168 A Winter Evening Part Ill.

Ghoſt, Rom. 14. 17. arid again, That either
Circumciſion availeth any thing nor Uncircumciſi-
on, but a new Creature, Gal.s. 15. |

Nay, it is true alſo that God decides not
Mens final Eftate (one way or other) merely
upon the account of ſuch Duties performed, or
ſuch Sins committed : but that which he prin-
cipally looks at in this caſe is an ingenuous or
dibgenuous temper towards himſelf, and a ca-
pacity or fitneſs for the ſtate of Heaven on the
one (ide, and a temper and diſpoſition fit for
Hell and the Devil on the other.

That (I fay) which God exprefly requires
as the Condition of Salvation, is an habit and
temper of Obedience, and an ingenuous frame
of Heart towards himſelf and his Laws. And
that this is not to be eſtimated Arithmetically,
or by tale of ſach a number of Performances,
but rather Geometrically, in proportion to the
heartineſs and fincerity of the Man, and with
reſpe&t to the circumſtances he ſtands in; that
is, as well making allowance for his temptati-
ons, afflitions, ignorances, infirmities and ſur-
priſals, as raiſing the reckoning in conſideration
of extraordinary light, knowledge, opportuni-
ties, incouragements and advantages whatſo-
ever. Accordingly we find the Apoſtle to
make a ſuppoſition, that a Man may give all
bis gocds to feed the poor, and hs body to be
burnt alſo, and yet want charity and the love of
God, rCor..13. 3. and yet our Saviour on the
other hand tells us, that, whoſoever ſhall give a
cup of cold water only to a Diſciple, ſhall not loſe
bis reward, Matt. 10. 42. |

!

Parc IT. Conferency, 165

Ss that (as T faid) fincetity is the only thing
in queſtion, eſpedally as' to the buſineſs of a
ronftant ard even temper of Spiritual Peace.
Now that is eafie to he decided, and a Man
needs not t6 run himſelf irito nice Difputes,
endlefs Scruples ahd perplexities about it; for
whoſoever endeavours to live well according
to the Goſpel, will eaſily be ferifible of his own
ſmcerity. For as it is no hard matter for a
Man to know concerning himſelf, whether he
hath carried himſelf faithfully towards his
Friend, or with a filial reverence towards his
Father, and he may as eafily tell whether he
hath dealt treacherouſly with the one, or been
ſtubborn, and careleſs of offending the other ;
and accordingly (if they be wiſe and worthy
Perfons he hath to deal with) he may affure
himſelf of the love of the forrtier and of the pi
ternal affection of the latter, notwithſtanding
that poſſibly he may be conſcious to himſelf to
have done ſome things unadvifedly, and fo have
faited in circumſtances towards them both :
So I fee no reaſent to doubt but that upon the
fame terms a Man may be able to witneſs fa
himfelf his own integrity and firhplicity towards
God his trueft Friend and moſt affeftfonate
Father, and thereupon look chearfully up to
him as fuch, and walk comfortably before him,
efpecially having fo good aſſarance (as I ſhewed
_ ) that he is far from being a captious

Y. |

4. Agaain, there is 4 fourth very common
vecafion of uncortifortableneſs, - . , . FD WM
namely, the grievance of ex- ERS off cccidans
ternal Accidents and Calami- and enrward 2f-
M ties,

i170 A Winter-Evening Part III.

feftioms another ties, which may- and do fre.
eqn of _— quently befall the beſt Men,
Peace and Comfort. 1.4 which either by their
ſharpneſs diſcompoſe a Chriſtian, or by the mul-

titude and ſeverity of them may tempt him to
queſtion how he ſtands in the favour of God
who permits ſuch things to befall him, or at
leaſt by their often and yet uncertain Returns
may make the Pulſe of his Heart beat very un-
equally. |

Againſt this there is no more proper Reme-
dy than to rouze up our ſlves, and to aCt a ge-
nerous Faith in God.

Conſidering, in the firſt place, that this is
his uſual method with thoſe he Joves beſt, to
exerciſe them with Afffiction, and that Afi.
on is ſo far from being a Token of his Hatred,
that on the contrary, there is no more dange-
rous fign of God's having quite deſerted and a-
bandoned a Man, than for him to uſe no Cha-
Rtiſement towards him. If ye receive not cha-
ftiſement, faith the Apoſtle, ye are Baſtards,
and ot Sons. And therefore we ſee the very
Eternal Son of God when he came upon Earth
and was in our Nature, was the moſt remark-
able Inſtance of a Mar of Serrows that ever was
in the World, infomuch that. it is not eaſfie to
imagine' what calamity can befall any Man
which is not to be parallelled, if not exceeded
'in the Sufferings of our Saviour, and as if
God had ordered it ſo on purpoſe to this end,
that no Man might complain of his ſhare, or
eſpecially deſpair and think himſelf forſaken of
God becauſe of his Adverſitics.

And

Part III. Conference. 171

And then in the ſecond place, affuring our
ſelves that as all afflitions come from God, ſo
they ſhall certainly be made to work for good to
all thoſe that love bim, Rom. 8. 28. For unleſs
we humour our ſelves, and indulge our Paſſion
too much, we may diſcover that there is hard-
ly any afflition befalls, but what we may be
bettered by, even for the preſent if we will ;
but there can be no doubt but God both can
and will turn it to our advantage in the ifſue
and upſhot of things : and therefore we have no
reaſon to be too much dejetted upon ſuch an
occaſion.

But that which is to be the principal exer-
Ciſe of our Faith in ſuch a caſe, and of moſt ef-
feftual conſideration, is, That God hath provided
another World, and a ſtate of unmixed and un-
interrupted joy there, when this ſhort and
troubleſome life is ended. And if we fix our
thoughts there (which we have great reaſon to
do, conſidering the happineſs is fo unſpeakably
great, the certainty of it ſo full, and the time
ſo ſhort for the accompliſhment of it) we ſhall
then count all the ſufferings of the preſent not
worthy to be compared with the glory that ſhall
then be revealed, Rom. 8. 18. and be far from
fainting under the ſharpeſt of adverfities, whi/ſ
thus we look not at the things which are ſeen, and
are but temporal, but at the things which are not
ſeen, and are eternal, 2 Cor. 4. 18-

5. But fifthly and laſtly, uy
the moſt general eauſe of the A#vice in 2he
uncomfortablenefs of the Spi- 274%, "9
rits of pious Men, and of the
unevenneſs of their temper, is bodily melan-
| M 3 choly ;

172 A Winter-Evenco Paxt Il.

choly ; that black humour is apt 40 diffuſe it
{lf all over, ſÞ as to cloud the Judgment, and
taint the eye of the Nind, that every thing ſhall
look of its own colour, black and diſmal, when
this predominates, and at leaſt while the Fit
lafts, God is readfull, bis Laws are impoſſible,
the guilt of ſin. is unpardonable, and. even the
moſt pitiable -infirmities. of Mankind (eſpecial-
ly thoſe which fich a Man can obferve in bim-
felf) are aggravated fo as to bear the ſymptoms
of Reprobation, -and every affliftion is looked
__- as a forerunner of the Vengeance of Hell
_
Melancholy. inthe Body becomes Jealouſie in
the Mind, and renders a Man alwavs ſuſfpici-
eus and uteaſic, and to be continually ſearch-
ing for what-he would be lath to find ; he is
always trying-and examining .his own caſe to
God-ward-with that ſeverity, as if he was de-
firous to difcover flaws in his hopes and evi-
dences of Salvation; one while he 1s a little re-
vived, and fees' no reafon to doubt his own E-
ſtate, "but by and by he revokes the moſt deli-
berate concluſions of his own Conſcience, and
then again falls into the other extreme, and is
altogether in the altitudes, but always uneven

and unſettled.
' Now for remedy of this, it is more than
half-way of the cure to' underſtand the Diſaſe,
and yet that is no more than to be aware that
melancholy is bath cauſe and effect, and that
that alone is able to att all this Tragedy with-
out any other cauſe of ſadneſs and diſquiet,
than merely the diffidence and miſtruſt of a
Man's own n- $EMPeT.. And that betrays it ſelf
notoriouſly

Part III. Conference. 17;

notoriouſly in this, that ſuch a Man can aſſign
no reaſoa of his trouble, but only he-is trouble
and he is again troubled that he is fo. Now i
a Man could give any ſuch account of his un+
comfortable fears as were ſufficient to fatisfie a-
ny Man beſides himſelf, rhen it would be reafo-
nable not to charge them upon melancholy, but
upon thoſe juſt cauſes ; but if no ſuch cauſes be
aſlignable, then it is manifeſtly temper that is
in fault without guilt or danger ; and this one
thing conſidered is able to relieve a Man out
of. his perplexity, and his Mind may arrive at
ſome tolerable meaſure of chearfulneſs, even in
the midſt of this bodily infirmity.

But if the underſtanding” of ſuch a Man be
too weak, or the Diſeaſe of melancholy be rog
ſtrong upon him to be cured this way ; then the
nextthing to be done (after the uſe of Phytick
for the body) is to reſort to ſome able and
experienced Phyſician of Souls, and ſincerely to
lay open the ſtateof his Conſcience to him : and
having ſo done, to reſt upon the judgment of
that other perſon, ſeeing heis not able to judge
for himſelf, or not willing to relie upon his own
judgment. And this is not only a way of pre-
ſent relief, but very ſafe and reaſonable, and
can have no ſuch thing as an implicite faith im-
puted to it. For ſo long as the perplexed per.
ſon can give any reaſon of his doubts and fears,
ſo long the ſpiritual Guide is bound to give ſa.
tisfaCtion to his reaſon, and to anſwer the juſt
cauſes of his trouble; but when that is done,
and the poor Man is perplexed without cauſe,
it is apparent there is nothing but melancholy in
the caſe, and then nothing can be more tit and

proper

174 A Winter-Evening Part III.

proper than that the weak ſhould lean upon the

ſtrong, and this poor diſtreſſed Creature ſhould

ſupport himſelf by the Authority of God's Mi.

niſter, who muſt be ſuppoſed to be able to judge

in ſuch a caſe, and cannot be ſuſpeced to be par-

o becauſe he hath no intereſt to ſerve by (6
oing.

And farther, the more effeftually to relieve
ſuch a pitiable Perſon, it ſeems very neceſſary
that after due Preparation thereunto, and all fit
folemnity, the Man of God ſhould proceed to
2 particular abſolution of his Patient, not- only
to affure him of the good grounds he went up-
on in the judgment he gave of his eſtate before,
but to raiſe his Spirits by the facredneſs of the
AQttion, and the hopes that God will ratifie in
Heaven what is thus done on Earth by his Mini-
ſter. This courſe is recommended by our Church
as a ſpecifick in ſuch caſes, and was of conſtant
practice in the Primitive Church in ſuch extre-
. mities, inſtead of that cuſtomary, general, and
formal Auricular Confeſſion, which (in igno-
rant and corrupt ages) came in the room of it.

After all, T would earneſtly adviſe ſuch a Man
(as we ſpeak of) not to ſmother his thoughts
in his own boſom, but by all means to let his
Heart take Air; for there is hardly any ſerious
Perſon ſo weak and injudicious, that a melan-
choly Man had not better confult with than
himſelf; nay, many times the putting a que-
ſion to a Poſt or Pillar, will help him to an an-
ſwer better than revolving of it altogether in his
own Breaſt ; but eſpecially it is to be recom-
mended to him, that he give nat himſelf up to
ſolitude and retirement, which thickens the

Blood

Part III. C onference. 175

Blood, and feeds the Diſeaſe, but that he fre.
quent the company and Converſation of good
Men; their fociety will not only divert him,
but their chearfulneſs will refreſh him, and the
very obſerving of their infirmities will tend to
his comfort, as giving him cauſe to ſuſpect his
own auſterity, and fo inclining him to paſs a
more mild cenſure upon himſelf,

And thus, 1 think, Philander, IT have fatif-
fied your ſecond inquiry, and have done it more
largely than I intended, or than you expetted.
And now, once again, good night.

Phil. Good night heartily, good Sebaſtian.

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